


Baby Stuff

by Arkiem



Series: Pampered [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adult baby, Age Play, Baby!Tony, Bathing, Changing Tables, Cribs, Cuddling, Daddies everywhere, Daddy!Steve, Diapers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Little!Tony, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Spanking, Thumb-sucking, bottles, non-sexual infantilism, sippy cups, stuffed animals, ←kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:45:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8743201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkiem/pseuds/Arkiem
Summary: Tony finally realizes that Age Play is what they have been doing. He's coming to terms with it, but it's not quite easy to deal with his little headspace, and he sometimes ends up being too fussy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know I had the other story incomplete, but this idea had been running through my head since I started writting that story, and I just had to take it out of my mind. 
> 
> Once more, I don't know where this is going, up until now I just had thought about this chapter and another one, so, let's just see how it develops. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it, and again, please let me know if you see any spelling or grammar mistake.

Tony hated glitches. Fortunately, he didn’t come across them very often, but when he did, they were just a pain. His brain was so awesome he could usually spot the miscalculation, and in the event that he couldn’t, JARVIS’s assistance was something Tony could always count on – which made him more awesome, since JARVIS was his creation. 

However, when there was a glitch whose root Tony couldn’t find no matter how hard he looked for it, frustration tended to take over him. Not being able to figure out what the problem was meant Tony had been too much time working and he needed to take a break. Exhaustion was the reason he made the mistake in the first place. The only way to vanish exhaustion was resting. Taking a break and resting in the middle of a project was something Tony loathed as much as glitches. 

“Show me the equations again, JARVIS,” Tony ordered as he rubbed his temples. He really missed those days where he could work for days in a row without having to deal with headaches.

“Don’t bother JARVIS,” Steve said behind him, startling him a little. Tony also missed those days when JARVIS would ask for his authorization before letting anyone in his workshop, “there’s no need to show anything, he’s leaving,” Steve added, looking up, a habit Tony hadn’t been able to break even if he had told Steve thousands of times that JARVIS wasn’t in the roof. On the contrary, Tony found himself a couple of times doing the same. 

Without further delay, Steve placed himself next to Tony and slid his hands under Tony’s arms, lifting him into the air with great ease. The stool on which Tony was sitting swing and fall down, the noise it made echoed in the almost totally silent room. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tony asked annoyed, glaring at the goofy smiling Steve. Tony didn’t like when Steve lifted him up by his armpits and just left it there hanging. It made his stomach twist and, worse, it made him feel uncomfortably small. Damn Steve and his non-human strength which allowed him to pick Tony up like if he weighted as much as a child. 

“Taking you upstairs. You’re getting a bath, something to eat and then you’re going to bed,” Steve informed, a bit too happily for Tony’s taste, “how does that sound?” he asked, earning a glare and a kick on the chest, “uh-oh, someone is a little cranky,” Steve said, wincing. Tony was sure Steve was just faking, without the suit, he couldn’t really hurt him. 

“I’m not. Just put me down and let me go back to work,” Tony demanded, trying to cross his arms over his chest to look more menacing, but Steve’s hands being under his armpits didn’t quite let him achieve that, and he ended up looking awkward as his folded arms were too far from his chest. 

“That’s not happening and you know it,” Steve claimed, moving a bit away from Tony, just in case he decided to kick him again. 

“Why the hell not?!” Tony shrieked.

“What day is today?” Steve asked, taking Tony slightly aback due to the sudden change of topic. 

“Saturday?” 

“Saturday,” Steve echoed, his tone of voice implying something Tony understood perfectly well.

“I don’t want to,” Tony mumbled, looking away. He could feel how the heat started to accumulate in his cheeks. 

“Sorry baby, that’s not an option anymore,” Steve notified him, finally bringing him down. Though Steve didn’t put him back on the ground, instead, he placed Tony against his hip, a hand providing him support under his butt. Tony didn’t argue at all, he simply threw his arms around Steve’s neck and let his head rest on his shoulder. It never ceased to amaze Tony how comfortable it was. “We’ve got a deal,” Steve reminded him. 

And they had indeed.

\- - - -

It turned out what they had been doing without even realizing it had a name: age play – _play_ , as Steve later began to call it. Although it had taken Tony some time to find about it.

All the treating-him-like-a-kid thing had gotten on his nerves very badly. Tony had reached a point where he kicked anyone out of the Tower for days at the slightest provocation, like using endearment nicknames meant for kids to address him or choosing an animated movie whenever they gathered to spend some quality time. He had had the need to put a stop to everything, otherwise, he was afraid everyone would keep taking the liberty of bossing him around as they wished – if Tony wanted to feed on just junk food and spend almost the entire week locked in his workshop, he wanted to be able to do so, damn it!

Eventually, everybody stopped commanding him to do things, or, like Tony saw it in his mind, everyone stopped treating him like a kid. Well, everyone but Steve, who turned out to be more persistent – if not stubborn – than Tony had ever imagined. That hadn’t been a big deal, though, Tony just had to avoid him as much as possible or pretend he wasn’t neglecting his health and that was enough to keep Steve on the sideways. 

It came as a complete shock when Tony found himself missing all that. At the beginning he thought he only missed the attention everybody else was giving him, but it didn’t take him a lot of time to figure out that what he missed went beyond that. 

Needless to say Tony freaked out. He would get livid whenever Steve tried to baby him, even if, in the end, he always ended up being carried along if Steve insisted long enough. And despite letting go felt great while it lasted, Tony couldn’t help being burden by a guilty feeling afterwards. Then came the avoidance again, the stress caused by it, Steve’s persistence, going with the flow of it, the guilt for doing so, and it just was a vicious circle Tony couldn’t break no matter what. 

Until one day, when Tony was moping in his workshop, JARVIS showed him pretty much everything there was on the Internet about that age-play thing. JARVIS’s audacity – more than nosiness, actually – did come in handy once in a while. So, there wasn’t anything wrong with Tony, it was just a… well, Tony wasn’t sure how to call all this situation. Maybe a stress-relieving hobby? A way to cope with his sometimes exasperating lifestyle? Who knew, the main thing was that this whole situation wasn’t as abnormal, weird and incorrect as Tony first had thought it was. 

That didn’t mean Tony came to terms with it soon after that. He might have agreed a bit faster when Steve tried to bring out what he started to know as his little headscape, but that had been pretty much it. Actually, Steve was the one who had to take all the credit for how everything worked out. Tony was more than sure that all the information that JARVIS had shown to him, was shown to Steve too. 

At first, they kept everything to themselves. But eventually, Steve encouraged Tony to be open about it, being sure no one would criticize or disapprove it. 

Tony had felt a bit unease when nobody seemed surprised the day Steve carried him into the communal living room wearing just a diaper and a t-shirt. A comment, either a joke or a criticism, had been expected, but there were never any. All the team acted as if this had been the more normal outcome to happen. They even took part in it sometimes, doing things like changing him, feeding him or playing with him whenever Steve was busy. Every team member had done those things at least a couple of times before, so Tony didn’t feel too uncomfortable by it. Tony would be lying if he said he never felt a bit embarrassed, though. Sometimes it was kind of galling to be aware that they all knew he liked this. Thankfully, most of the times he was able to shake that feeling off and enjoy the moment. 

However, not everything was a bed of roses. Sometimes Steve prompted him to _play_ when Tony really didn’t feel like to and they ended having a big argument about it. As a result, Steve began to refrain himself from initiating the age play and wait until Tony did it. But then another problem arose. Tony, being Tony, never asked for what he wanted. 

“This isn’t working,” Steve had declared, a sobbing Tony curled against his chest. As usual, he had waited too much to let his little mindset come to the surface and that always turned out badly. “You get mad every time I suggest playing, but you never want to do it willingly,” he said, but Tony didn't say anything, he just clung to Steve’s t-shirt with trembling hands. 

That had been when they made the deal. During the week Steve wouldn't bring up the topic. But on Saturday nights, unless there was a battle to fight, a meeting to attend or something else like that, he would put Tony to bed and the next day they would play all day. They also came up with a safe word Tony could use in case of not feeling like playing at all. It hadn’t been used up until now.

\- - - -

"So, a bath it is," Steve chanted as he stepped out of the elevator and into his floor, "I don't know when was the last time to had one, but let me tell you that you really need one," he mocked, earning a muffled grunt from Tony.

Within five minutes Steve had taken off all his clothes and helped him into the bathtub. Apparently, it had been filled before Steve went to look for him. It was a quick bath, Steve didn’t even let him play with his bath toys, arguing it was already late and he still had to make dinner. Tony splashed him in return and squirmed a lot, making the washing a little bit harder than usual in return. 

Soon, Tony found himself being lifted from the bathtub and wrapped with a towel, just to be immediately carried outside the bathroom and into the nursery. Because, of course, he had a nursery now. Steve might have never spent too much money on himself even if Tony had provided him with an unlimited credit card, but it seemed he didn’t have problems spending thousands of dollars on Tony. So, Steve, with JARVIS’s help, had remodeled one of the unused bedrooms in his floor and turned it into a nursery, crib and changing table included. 

Initially, Tony had been upset, but he secretly – because there was no way he was never going to admit that aloud – loved it now. Steve tended to take things further than Tony was ready to deal with, though at the end of the day, Tony was grateful for that. 

“Someone is definitely a bit grumpy today,” Steve mentioned when he heard him whine as he was being put down on the changing table, “don’t worry sweetheart, this is not going to take long,” he promised, patting him tenderly on the leg. 

While Steve tried to dry him off, Tony reached for the Snorlax, which Steve made sure was always at hand, and hid his face behind it. He was grumpy indeed. He did want to _play_ , but even if he was getting there, Tony wasn’t down in his little headspace yet. Being caught between his two headspaces wasn’t something he enjoyed, as he couldn’t help feeling a bit ashamed by the whole situation when his adult mindset was the one that predominated. 

When Steve lifted his hips, Tony moaned a little. His face felt so hot he got the feeling it must have acquired a bright shade of red. Diaper changes had become something usual by now, everybody in the Tower had diapered him at least a dozen of times. Tony even bet that JARVIS would have diapered him at some point if the A.I. had been able to do it. All the times that JARVIS had notified out loud that he needed to be changed when not even Tony himself had noticed he had wet his diaper, made Tony sure of that. 

But using diapers out of necessity and using them just out of choice were two very different things. It was true that his little-self had problems with controlling his bladder, but still. And Steve habit of praising him and using tender words during the process wasn’t helping right now. His adult-self had never been good at dealing with such loving gestures. 

“Done,” Steve announced, caressing his abdomen tenderly, “now let’s get you dressed so we can go upstairs.”

Tony peeped out and let another moan escape from his mouth. Steve was unfolding one of those onesies that snapped from the crotch. A light blue and white stripped one. Tony wasn’t very fond of those pieces of clothing. He actually preferred wearing just a t-shirt and a diaper, especially in situations like these. 

Now that Tony remembered, Clint was the one to blame for the fact that Steve had decided to buy several of those items. Clint had been chasing him one day, threating Tony to tickle him as he usually did whenever Tony was a little moody. But Tony hadn’t felt like being tickled that time, thus both of them ended running all around the living room. The problem had been that his diaper had been too heavy due to had been used to its full capacity, and the movement caused by the running had made impossible for the straps to stay in place. His diaper had ended up falling down to the floor, which hadn’t been a big deal to Tony, everybody had seen him naked countless times. But then, Steve had come in and seen Tony running naked in a communal room, and had scolded both Tony and Clint about how inappropriate that had been. Tony found himself wearing a onesie for the first time right on the next day. 

“OK, you’re all set,” Steve stated once he snapped the onesie shut over the diaper. Tony looked down at his crotch and frowned. 

Even if he denied it, Tony was sure the diapers Clint bought were thicker than the already thick blue ones he had gotten months ago when he first started using them. Tony could barely close his legs now, and his gait was surely widened a bit more, making it almost impossible not to waddle when he walked. It wasn’t that Tony found them uncomfortable, quite the opposite, as it was kind of pleasant sitting on a padded butt. It was more like he sometimes felt a little mortified, as the bulky diapers were difficult to hide. 

“Let’s go downstairs so I can fix you some dinner,” Steve said, picking him up. 

“Don’t want to, not hungry,” Tony lied, squirming to try to get free from Steve’s hold, but not really putting his mind to it. 

“You’re a pretty little liar,” Steve called him playfully, already on his way to the elevator, “I’m sure the funny noises your tummy is doing are because you’re hungry. That, or your tummy is trying to learn to talk, but I doubt that’s the case.”

\- - - -

As soon as they got into the living room, Tony saw one of the reasons he didn’t feel like going beyond the nursery: there was someone else there. Specifically, Clint was there, sitting on the couch playing a video game. This was far from the first time he interacted with somebody else while _playing_ , but since he still was between headspaces, Tony wasn’t really comfortable around anyone but Steve. Immediately, Tony hid his face against Steve’s shoulder.

“Hey Clint,” Steve greeted, but Tony didn’t hear any answer from Clint. Surely he was deep into whatever game he was playing. “Would you mind keeping an eye on Tony while I make something to eat?” Steve asked, causing a squirmy feeling in Tony’s belly. He didn’t want to be left alone with Clint. Yes, the kitchen was very few meters away and Steve would be in sight, but still. Steve had cooked many times at the same time he held him. Why couldn’t he do that now? “It’s OK baby, Clint is here, he’ll keep you company while I make you dinner,” Steve reassured him when Tony tightened his grip, refusing to be put down on the couch. 

“No,” Tony whined as Steve managed to lower him onto the sofa after a small struggle. Tony took advantage and clutched Steve’s t-shirt when the latter leaned to kiss him in the forehead, but a slight tickle under his armpits was all Steve needed to free himself. 

“Don’t worry kiddo, I promise I don’t bite,” Clint said mockingly, turning his head to smiled at him for thousandth of second, before focusing his eyes on the screen again. 

Tony moved as far as possible from Clint, drawing his knees up to his chest and slipping a thumb into his mouth, perfect excuse for not having to talk. It took him several minutes to relax, trying to concentrate more on Link’s journey than his surroundings. Clint had been obsessed with the remake of that Legend of Zelda video game for weeks. Tony wasn’t really into that game, but it was somehow funny to see Clint get mad and swear whenever Link failed to move as Clint wanted him to. 

In exactly ten minutes, Tony was already bored out of his mind. If he was going to wait for Steve to finish cooking, he might as well entertain himself in the meantime. He didn’t feel like trying to play Legend of Zelda, but there was always Mario Kart. That one he liked – unless he lost, but that wasn’t the point now. He crawled towards Clint and reached for the controller, but Clint moved it away from him.

“Hey!” Tony complained, moving closer to the controller. Clint moved it away once more. “Gimme!” 

“Sorry kiddo, I’m playing,” Clint said, placing a hand over Tony’s chest to prevent him to get closer, “besides, Steve doesn’t want you to play,” he informed. 

“That’s not true!” Tony protested, stretching out his hand as much as possible, “it’s mine!” 

“No, it’s not. I bought this console myself,” Clint affirmed, letting Tony crawl closer and pinning him down carefully as soon as he was over his lap. 

“With my money!” Tony alleged, squirming to try to get rid of Clint’s grip, without stopping reaching for the controller. “Give it!” he demanded, a hint of frustration could be heard in his voice. 

“I told you, Steve doesn’t want you to play!” Clint insisted.

“That’s not true! You’re making that up because you don’t want me to play!” Tony proclaimed, “GIVE IT TO ME!” 

“What’s going on here?” Steve asked, walking towards them, “what are you doing?” he crossed his arms over his chest and scowled, showing his disapproval.

“I wanna play and Clint doesn’t want to give me the controller!” Tony whined.

“I already told him you don’t want him to play,” Clint reported, and he couldn’t help cursing when Tony took advantage of his distraction and took the controller away from him. Steve’s scowl deepened, Tony knew for a fact that Steve didn’t like any of them to use curse words whenever they _played_.

Tony smiled widely when he saw the controller in his hand. Though the smile didn’t last long. Steve picked him up and balanced him on his hip, taking the controller away from his hands and giving it back to Clint. Tony attempted to reach for it again, but the arm that Steve had around his waist prevented him from leaning over. 

“That’s why I asked you to put it away before I brought Tony,” Steve scolded Clint, making him frown in a very pout-ish way, “Sorry sweetheart, but Clint wasn’t lying. I don’t want you to play, at least not now,” Steve cleared up, earning a glare from Tony. 

“Why not?” Tony demanded. This was the second time Steve didn’t let him play today, and that certainly didn’t help him to slip into his little headspace. 

“Because if I let you play now, you won’t want to eat dinner,” Steve explained, walking back to the kitchen. 

“That’s not true,” Tony defended himself. 

“I’m afraid it is, baby boy. The last time you played video games before a meal time, you got so immersed in it that you threw a huge tantrum when I turned off the console so you could come to the table and eat,” Steve reminded him as he placed his hands on Tony’s sides and lifted him a little, to settle him on a chair right after. Before Tony could realize what chair it had been, Steve had snapped the straps shut and fixed the tray in place, “I promise you can play as much as you want tomorrow.”

Kicking his legs in the air, Tony whined a bit too dramatically when he saw Steve walking away from him in the direction of the kitchen island. He disliked the highchair enormously, because once he was placed there he wouldn’t be able to get down until his plate was empty. It wasn’t like it was impossible for Tony to get himself free from it, the strap could be easily unsnapped and the tray removed, but if Tony did that, Steve got upset. If dealing with Steve’s affection was hard for Tony, dealing with his anger was even harder. He couldn’t stand the frown in his face and the look of disappointment. 

Besides, that time regarding the tantrum that Steve just talked about, Tony had been so mad for having been made to stop playing in the middle of a race he was surely was going to win, he had caused a mess. Being too close to the table that he had been able to kick it. By the third time he did so, he had kicked it so hard that he had accidentally propelled himself backwards, falling and hitting his head, all the oatmeal spilled around. Steve’s guilty and worried expression was undoubtedly another thing Tony couldn’t stand. 

“I don’t wanna be here,” Tony complained, wriggling. 

“Don’t worry poppet, dinner is almost ready.” Steve smiled tenderly at him. Tony pouted. 

Dinner went uneventful, Tony didn't really fuss when Steve insisted on feeding him even if it was clearly he could have eaten by himself. Chicken nuggets and fries was something he could have grabbed with his hands without the risk of making a mess or staining anything. The only thing Steve let him take by himself was the apple juice, and it was just because it had been served in a sippy cup. 

Thankfully, Steve got Tony down as soon he finished, which was strange considering the fact that Steve had the habit of washing the dishes and putting everything away before doing anything else. They headed back to the living room, where Clint still was. The Wii U was nowhere to be seen – surely Clint had put it away to avoid further arguments – and was now watching some cartoons Tony didn't recognize. 

Steve sat down on the couch and settled Tony on his lap, swinging Tony’s legs up so that he was sitting sideways, back supported by the same arm Steve protectively surrounded his waist with. His feet were inches away from Clint’s left thigh, making it easy for the latter to reach for Tony’s toes. Clint took both his big toes in his hands and caressed them affectionately while he looked at Tony and smiled sympathetically. Tony was sure Clint was being careful not to tickle him, he knew how ticklish his soles were, though Tony moved his feet away anyway as he glared at Clint. What had happened hadn’t been Clint’s fault and Tony knew that perfectly well. However, Tony was still feeling cranky and he didn't feel like being nice. He curled as much as possible against Steve’s chest and began sucking at his thumb, turning his head a little and fixing his eyes on the TV.

It didn’t take long for Steve’s strokes – which Tony didn’t know exactly when they had started – send him into a sleepy state. It was great, maybe his moodiness was due to being sleep deprived for more than thirty hours. Tony could definitely do with some sleep. Closing his eyes, Tony tried to get to sleep, ineffectively. After fifteen minutes, Tony reopened his eyes feeling frustrated and grumpier. 

Perhaps watching TV would help him to fall asleep, so he focused on the screen once more. The bad thing was that Tony just wasn’t in the mood for cartoons, an action movie or TV show would be better. 

“What is it?” Clint asked the third time Tony pushed his thigh with his foot, figuring it hadn’t been a reflex. 

“Change,” Tony mumbled against his thumb. 

Immediately, Steve straightened up a bit and placed a hand on the front of his diaper, “are you wet, baby? Do you need a–?”

“No!” Tony hurried to lie, pulling this thumb out of his mouth. He had used his diaper right after he finished eating, but his bladder hadn’t been too full so he was OK for now. Being changed in front of someone was something he had experienced a handful of times, he just didn’t feel like letting that happen right now. Fortunately, the diaper was thick enough Steve couldn’t tell Tony was slightly wet. “Change the channel,” Tony demanded, pushing Clint’s leg again. 

“What? Why? I’m watching it,” Clint said, looking at Tony with a confused expression in his face, “Besides, you like cartoons,” he added. 

“Don’t like that one, it’s stupid,” Tony said, and he couldn’t avoid jumping a bit when he felt smack on his padded side bottom. It didn’t hurt at all. In fact, he didn’t even feel anything. It had been the noise the thing that startled him. 

“Language,” Steve told Tony when the latter looked up at him questioningly. 

Tony rolled his eyes before facing Clint once more. “Change it,” he demanded one more time. 

“I told you I’m watching it,” Clint complained. 

“I wanna watch something else,” Tony alleged, taking advantage of the fact that Steve’s grip had loosen when he had smacked his butt seconds before and leaped on Clint, his arm reaching for the remote Clint had put on the other side of the sofa. 

“Give it back!” Clint ordered, already trying to get it back, but Tony’s grip on it was strong. 

Right when Tony thought he had an advantage over Clint, he felt two hands being placed on his sides, and he soon found himself being lifted from the couch. 

“OK, you mister are going to bed now,” Steve announced, settling Tony against his hip and struggling to take the remote from his hand, “you’re getting too grumpy,” he stated, Tony kicked his legs in protest and whined loudly when he saw Steve giving the remote back to Clint, feeling betrayed for the second time on that day.

\- - - -

“Shhh, it’s OK baby boy, just keep your eyes closed and relax,” Steve cooed him, without stopping palming his bottom. Tony would never admit it, but it was quite soothing.

Half an hour. Tony had been trying to get to sleep for half an hour with not luck. Steve had taken him straight to the nursery, which had upset Tony. He made sure to show his displeasure by giving him a hard time during the diaper change, refusing to stay still even for a minute. 

But angry wasn’t really the adjective that described how Tony felt now. Yes, he hadn’t liked that Steve had refrained him from doing what he had wanted to do, but his adult mindset did understand the reason behind Steve’s way of proceeding. That continued being the root of the problem. His adult mindset was still on the surface, making it impossible to completely slip in his little headspace as Tony wanted to. 

Sleeping, that would definitely help. Resting, relaxing and waking up in his crib never failed to made Tony feel very little. The frustrating part was that he couldn’t fall asleep even if he was truly tired. Steve had been swaying him back and forth while he walked slowly around the room, whispering comforting things in his ear as an attempt to send him to sleep, but it hadn’t worked up until now. Tony had even begun to sob without realizing it. It had been until Steve had shushed affectionately that Tony had become aware of it. 

“Is he already asleep?” Tony heard Clint ask, footsteps indicating he was approaching them. Tony hid his face immediately, he didn’t feel comfortable crying in front of people. It was already too mortifying to have Steve there while it happened. 

“I’m afraid not,” Steve answered, rubbing his cheek against the top of Tony’s head. Tony leaned into the touch as his breath hitched on another sob. 

“Maybe this will help,” Clint suggested.

“Hopefully.”

The swaying ceased. Before Tony could moan to complain about the lack of soothing movement, he sensed Steve lowering. Soon, Tony was comfortably sat sideways on Steve’s lap, and the swaying movement resumed. The rocking chair. That had been a piece of furniture Steve had bought that Tony did like. He raised a hand with the intention of slipping his thumb in his mouth, but Steve grabbed his wrist gently. 

“Try this better, sweetpea,” Steve recommended him as he pressed a nipple against his lips. 

At first, Tony thought it was a pacifier, but when he sucked on it, liquid flooded his mouth. Warm milk slightly flavored with vanilla, to be exact. It tasted good, and felt even better once it reached his stomach, so, he kept on sucking. At some point, something furry was placed on his stomach. Tony peered out and saw Clint when he was leaning down to press a kiss on his forehead before turning around and leaving the room. Tony stroked what Clint had given him and hugged it as soon as he realized it was his Snorlax. 

It would have been nice to say it didn’t take long before Tony fell asleep, but it wasn’t like that. It took another half an hour for him to be able to travel to dreamland, Steve’s humming being the last thing he remembered hearing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm supposed to be on vacation (from 2 jobs, I've got 3) and I'm even busier now, what the...?
> 
> Anyway, I haven't been in a mood to write these days, I wrote this one as soon as I finished chapter 1. So today that I got off work a bit earlier, I decided to finish it. 
> 
> As usual, if you spot any mistake, please let me know :)

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Steve asked for the umpteenth time, his face showing how much he hoped Tony had changed his mind. 

"I'm completely sure. I'm as sure as I've been for the last hour since you started asking me the exact same question," Tony replied as he flopped down onto the couch and extended his arms over the back of it, sounding annoyed.

"It's gonna be fun," Steve promised, sitting down next to him, on the edge. 

"Fun for you. People don't recognize you,” Tony argued, turning his head so he could be face to face with Steve, “if I get spotted, which I definitely will, there’s no way people will leave us alone during all film.” 

“You could go incognito,” Steve proposed. 

Tony threw his head back and grunted loudly, “would you just drop it? I already told you I’m not going,” Steve’s persistence could be a bit exasperating sometimes. 

“All right,” Steve conceded, “but then don’t complain about it.”

“Why would I complain? There’s a floor decorated as a movie theater in here and I could get JARVIS to buy the original film if I wanted to. Something I offered to do, by the way,” Tony reproached, squinting at Steve.

Standing up with a crooked grin in his face, Steve said, “it’s not the same,” 

“Of course it’s not the same. It’s much better!” Tony assured, offended. Everything that was his was meant to be the best of the best, “No lines, free snacks, no sticky floors, no people murmuring, texting, calling or spoiling the movie, and above everything, no children crying throughout all the movie!” 

“Unless you have a cranky baby who doesn’t like any of the thousands of movies JARVIS has storage and throws a tantrum because he wants one that hasn’t even been released,” Steve commented grinning. 

There was no need to draw an extensive conclusion to know who Steve was alluding to. Not liking the insinuation, Tony raised his leg to throw a kick on Steve’s stomach, but the latter caught his foot before that could happen. “Just leave already!” he ordered him, struggling to lose Steve’s grip on his ankle. “or I’ll kick you out myself,” he threatened and he straightened up and folded his arms over his chest, scowling. 

“Don’t you want me to stay?” Steve suggested. The grin vanished all of a sudden, acquiring that expression of seriousness and tenderness that Tony came to recognize as Steve’s daddy-mode face. Tony couldn’t really explain why, but that expression tended to upset him greatly unless he was in his little headspace. “I can stay if you need me to,” Steve offered when Tony just stared at him without enunciating anything. 

“Jesus, just go!” Tony exclaimed, standing up a bit too quickly and too rough. He gave Steve a shove before heading to the elevator, though he was sure he hadn’t unbalanced Steve in the least.

\- - - -

As soon as he entered to his workshop, Tony walked towards the sofa and slumped on it, his left leg hanging lazily on the side and his right arm put over his eyes. He wasn’t even going to try get some work done, it didn’t matter to him if Pepper had already yelled at him for being neglecting the long overdue paperwork. Paperwork she had taken herself to the Tower after Tony had yet failed once more to go to his office and sign. He was a far cry from being in the mood to work. Crankiness always interfered with his concentration, and working when your mind spaced out every five seconds was something Tony wasn’t really fond of.

That habit of Steve always managed to get on his nerves. Every time Steve was going to go away, even if it was going to be for a short period of time, he implied the same thing: that Tony would somehow slip into his little mindset while he was gone and wouldn’t be able to look after himself. Like if Tony couldn’t control his own mind!

For a lot of years, Tony had handled everything by himself, without his teammates attention or care, and even if it hadn’t been flawless, in his opinion he had done just fine. So, Tony could definitely be by himself for some hours, he didn’t need Steve or anybody to be all over him all the time. Tony did need his space. 

But don’t misunderstand him, Tony wasn’t saying he disliked what all the team did for him, specially Steve. Quite the opposite actually, Tony was very grateful to him. Anybody else would have considered this way too weird and walked away, or might have tried to take advantage of this vulnerable side of Tony to get something from him. Steve didn’t do any of those things. 

Steve had been more than nice to him. Steve comforted Tony whenever he was woken up by a nightmare, no matter how late it was. Steve swayed him as long as it was necessary to make him sleep, no matter how tiring it could be. Steve cooked him food that was healthy and delicious at the same time, and he make sure Tony ate it no matter how much Tony fussed about it and lied about not being hungry. Steve meticulously surfed on the Internet looking for things Tony’s little-self would like, not matter how much his adult-self got angry for daring to take such liberties. Steve let himself be pushed away whenever Tony got too frustrated to deal with this situation and waited patiently until Tony cooled off, never getting offended. 

Yes, Steve was too nice sometimes, and Tony too grouchy. 

And, in that precise moment, Tony began missing Steve. 

All of a sudden, Tony found himself experiencing a great need to be with Steve. That Steve who lately tended to put Tony’s needs before his. That Steve who had being begging anyone to go to the movies with him, not really enjoying being shut in the Tower all the time nor going out by himself. That Steve who had been willing to stay in if Tony had asked him to, with disregard of all the trouble he had had to finally convince Clint and Coulson to go out with him. That same Steve who Tony had gotten mad at just because he had shown concern about Tony’s little side. 

What if Steve had gotten angry? What if he got tired of Tony’s recent mood swings? What if he decided this wasn’t worth all the trouble Tony caused? What if he stepped away? What if he didn’t come back? Tony could still count on the others, but… but Steve was Steve. 

A sob escaped from his mouth, perplexing him. Tony moved his arm from over his eyes and blink several times, his vision blurred by… tears? What the hell? When had he started to cry? With his other forearm, Tony wiped away the tears that were welled up in his eyes a bit too brusquely, noticing that his cheeks were wet too. Wet enough to realize he had been crying for a while. What the hell just happened? Why was he crying? This wasn’t the first time Tony had gotten angry at Steve, and this wasn’t the first time he had been rude to him either. 

But what if it was the last time Steve put up with moodiness?

Another sob made his way out as fresh tears began to well up in his eyes again, faster than Tony could wipe them. That didn’t stop him from rubbing his hands over his eyes, a vain attempt to keep the tears from falling. Because this was stupid, Tony knew he was being stupid. He was crying for nothing. Steve would be there in a few hours and he would surely be all over Tony again, riling him. A shame that his brain didn’t seem to understand that, Tony wanted Steve with him _now_.

In a matter of minutes Tony was weeping with such ferocity his breath hitched and made it difficult to satisfied his lungs. Giving up on his attempt to stop crying, Tony turned on his side and curled up into a small ball, feeling miserably foolish. 

Tony didn’t know for how long he had been crying himself out when he felt a hand on his upper arm, shaking him. He half-opened his eyes and after some seconds he could distinguish who the person was. It took Tony several seconds more to realize that person was talking to him, his vision still too blurry and his hearing obstructed by the crying. 

“What’s the matter? Are you in pain? What’s wrong? Please tell me so I can assist you,” Thor asked him, his tone of voice showing how mortified he was. 

“I-I w-want… I w-want Da-daddy,” Tony managed to stutter between sobs before sitting up and throwing himself into Thor’s arms. Tony kept wailing into his neck.

\- - - -

“Do you don’t want me to make contact with our fellow Steve?” Thor asked, rubbing his thumb against Tony’s upper arm. Tony simply shook his head, his face pressed into Thor’s chest, hidden. “Are you certain?” he pushed, getting a nod for an answer. 

Tony felt ashamed and dumb, sure of having overreacted. That outburst hadn’t had raison d’être at all. Thor had ended settling Tony on his lap and began bouncing him slowly while he hugged him back until Tony could calm down. To Tony’s dismay, it took him quite a while to achieve that. And even so, Tony hadn’t been able to quell the sobs completely, one or two continued escaping every few minutes. 

“I could call him,” Thor offered once more, resettling Tony’s weight, looking for a more comfortable position. 

“No!” Tony cried upsettingly, though it sounded muffled. He felt how Thor sighed.

What was Thor going to tell Steve? To come back because Tony had been crying for his _daddy_? No, thank you very much. It was already mortifying enough that Thor had instantly known that the ten times – maybe more – Tony had said he wanted his _daddy_ , he had actually been calling for Steve.

What the hell had all that been about? Tony had never referred to Steve as ‘daddy’, and he certainly hadn’t meant to. Clint and Natasha had called Steve ‘daddy’ whenever the latter took his role as captain too seriously. Even Coulson called him sarcastically like that when Steve had asked him to babysit. But not Tony. Because that was taking things to a level Tony was light years away from being comfortable with. Because Steve might not be comfortable with that either. 

“Shall we go upstairs?” Thor suggested after some minutes. Tony felt relief when Thor didn’t push further on Steve’s matter. “You must be thirsty,” he assured, and Tony was sure a sentence like after all the crying was left out. But he was thirsty, so he refrained himself from arguing and nodded. 

Though Tony didn’t refrain himself from complaining when Thor stood up and kept holding him instead of putting him down on the floor. He might have slipped a bit into his little headspace, but he wasn’t entirely into it yet. And he didn’t want that to happen, not really. Tony didn’t want to be little right now, and being carried as a child wasn’t going to help him at all.

“Put me down!” Tony demanded, writhing hard.

“But we are going upstairs,” Thor said, looking at Tony confused. He had carried Tony several times before, and Tony never seemed to have a problem with that. The difference was that those times Tony hadn’t been ashamed of having cried his eyes out because one of his teammates had decided to go out for a couple of hours. 

“I can walk!” Tony stated, and kept wriggling until Thor put him down. 

Never had Tony imagined that he would feel anxious, lost and awkward once he was back on the floor. He stood there scratching his upper arm, without really knowing what to do next – he must be more used to being held than he had realized. Said anxiety increased greatly when Thor turned around and started walking away. After hesitating slightly, Tony hurried behind him and reached for the back of Thor’s t-shirt, clutching it shyly. 

“What’s the matter?” Thor asked, stopping and looking down at Tony questioningly. Tony squirmed under his gaze, and before he knew it, his thumb had found its way to his mouth. Thor smiled fondly as he stroked his hair playfully, and said nothing else, to Tony’s relief. 

None of them said a word during the ride in the elevator. The silence was disrupted occasionally by the sound caused every time Tony gave light suck to his thumb. He was aware that having his thumb in his mouth wasn’t really going to help him stay in his adult mindset, but Tony was feeling too distressed and that particular thing helped him to relax a bit. 

As soon as the elevator stopped and its door opened, Thor stepped outside and made his way to the kitchen, Tony’s hand still firmly clasping the fabric of Thor’s t-shirt, staying right behind him. Looking inside various cabinets, Thor ran into the one where Steve kept all the flatware Tony usually used when he was little. 

“Water or juice?” Thor asked, grabbing a sippy cup from the cabinet. 

Tony glared at it, and he was about to remove his thumb from his mouth to tell Thor that he could perfectly drink from a glass, when he felt it. A small spurt leaked out, which soon became a non-stopping stream, making a trail down both his legs and darkening his pants. Tony looked down his pants to verified what his mind already knew had happened and let out a choked sob before bursting into tears once more.

\- - - -

“It’s OK, it was an accident, it was not your fault,” Thor reassured Tony, drying him off caringly but quickly. Thor must have thought Tony was trembling because he had gotten cold after the quick shower, but the sudden spasms where caused by the whimpers Tony hadn’t been able to suppress completely yet. “It was mine,” Thor admitted, his face crumbling a little in sympathy when he looked at Tony’s wretched expression, “I should have put a diaper on you.” 

And Thor should have indeed. Everybody else always made sure of diapering Tony as soon as he showed the slightest sign of having slipped into his little headspace, since he tended to lose control of his bladder very easily while being little. But Thor hadn’t really been around much since Tony started _playing_ , so Tony couldn’t really reproach him anything. 

“Would you forgive me?” Thor asked, while he put the towel aside. Tony nodded shyly and Thor smiled truly relieved as he caressed his naked belly tenderly, making him squirm a little since it felt ticklish. 

Tony wasn’t really mad at Thor, but at himself. He still didn’t want to be little, and wetting his pants did not help at all. Nor being lying on a changing table in the nursery, waiting to be diapered. And even if Tony was very tempted to tell Thor to put the diaper away when he saw him unfolding it, Tony said nothing, knowing it would keep him from having another accident, thereby avoiding further embarrassment. Though that didn’t stop him from sobbing a bit when Thor put the diaper on him – a deep part of Tony’s mind couldn’t help realizing Thor had gotten better at it. 

“Is there something wrong? What keeps causing you distress?” Thor questioned worryingly, “is it too tight?” he asked, placing a hand on the straps, ready to do something about them if Tony agreed, but Tony shook his head, “Then what is it?” Thor insisted, but Tony didn’t answer. 

What was he supposed to say? That he desperately wanted dadd– Steve back? No way! Thor had been very nice to Tony, and he truly enjoyed spending time with him. But his little-self stubbornly kept missing dad– Steve! And just thinking of him was causing more tears to well up in his eyes, which was making him angry at the same time. Dad– Steve was going to be home soon, so there was no reason to feel that way. 

While Tony tried to stop the tears from shedding, Thor moved away for a few seconds to get a t-shirt. Although, instead of putting it on him, Thor leaned down closer to Tony and hid his face behind the t-shirt. 

“Where’s the baby?” Tony could hear Thor asking, right before he moved away t-shirt and said with a huge grin in his face, “there he is!”

After repeating the same thing for three times, Tony couldn’t help starting crying again. Because, even if Tony was sure Thor’s intention was totally the opposite, everything Thor had been doing just kept pushing him further into his little mindset. And even if Tony refused emphatically to let that part of him take over, he was losing the battle. He wanted daddy to be back, he wanted to apologize to him for having been rude earlier that evening, he wanted daddy to accept his apology and to tell him everything was all right, he wanted to cuddle into daddy and he wanted daddy to lull him to sleep. But daddy wasn’t there. 

“For Odin, don’t cry Tony, I’m so sorry, I saw a movie with Jane the other day and a tiger did that to an infant, I thought you were going to like it,” Thor babbled, mortified by Tony’s reaction. But Tony began to wail even harder instead of calming down. 

Hurrying to dress him with the t-shirt, Thor scooped Tony up, who clung to him desperately as he cried his frustration and anger out. 

\- - - -

“You must stay there,” Thor ordered Tony as he pushed him gently back into the crib.

“No!” Tony said obstinately, trying to move Thor’s hand away and swing his right leg over the side of the crib.

“Yes, Steve says you ought to sleep here,” Thor assured, sliding his hands under Tony’s armpits and lifting him enough to get him away from the side and sit him down in the middle of the crib. Tony started squirming right away.

“No!” Tony repeated, struggling to free himself from Thor’s grip when the latter pushed him to make him lie down. 

This was the third time Thor attempted to make Tony stay in the crib. 

After his second outburst of the day, Tony had been physically drained. It hadn’t taken long for Thor’s rocking and strokes to make him doze. If Thor had swayed Tony a few minutes more, he might have fallen completely asleep and, therefore, he wouldn’t have been awakened when he was put down in the crib. With teary eyes, Tony had spoken out his reluctance to be left there, and Thor had agreed to pick him up again to avoid a third burst of tears. 

The second time, Tony hadn’t been that lucky. Being aware that Thor planned to leave him there, Tony refused to get to sleep. Exhaustion had ended up doing its thing though, and Tony hadn’t been able to keep himself awake for any longer. Tony hadn’t felt the change of position, but he had woken up again when Thor was inches away from the door. Thor hadn’t picked him up that time, but he had sat down next to the crib and petted his hair until Tony had gotten sleepy once more. When Tony had woken up by a third time, Thor hadn’t been in the room, but he had showed up right before Tony could climb out the crib – JARVIS must have tipped him off. 

“I will watch over your sleep, I promise,” Thor insisted, the hand he was using to keep him in place caressed affectionately Tony’s chest. That didn’t help to ease Tony’s apprehension. He didn’t want to sleep by himself, not when the possibility of Steve walking out on him was almost palpable in his mind, not when nightmares were very likely to happen, not when his little-self was feeling that vulnerable. 

“No! With you.”

“With me?” Thor inquired, not really understanding what Tony had meant. 

“Yes,” Tony pleaded, both hands clutching to Thor’s arm to prevent him from leaving. 

“But I’m certain Steve wants you to sleep here, _miting_ ,” Thor stated, and Tony didn’t doubt that was true. Steve always insisted Tony slept in the crib whenever he was in his little headspace, unless somebody could share the bed with him to look after him during the night. 

“No! With you!” Tony insisted, giving Thor his best and most sincere version of his puppy eyes. 

Thor sighed with resignation. 

\- - - -

It was way past midnight when they arrived to the Tower. Steve hurried to the entrance and then to the elevator, leaving behind Clint and Coulson. He didn’t want to be with them anymore, listening to Coulson’s scolding on their way back had been enough to give Steve a headache and he wasn’t planning on listening to more of it now that he was back home. 

Going straight to the workshop, Steve was surprised when he didn’t find Tony there. Had Tony gone to bed early willingly? That was something that didn’t happen every day. But when he went to his room and didn’t see him there either, Steve worried. Even if the Tower was a huge building, there weren’t many places where Tony spent his time in. 

“Young sir is in the nursery,” JARVIS told him without being asked, surely sensing Steve’s concern. 

In the nursery? Had Tony slipped into his little headspace when Steve had been in the movies? That couldn’t have gone well. Whenever Tony’s little side came to the surface unintentionally, he was too fussy. That had been the reason Steve had established a schedule for _playing_ , to help Tony achieved a peaceful transition.

Walking as fast as he could, Steve headed for his floor where the nursery was. His heart beat hard as he placed his hand over the doorknob, not knowing what he was going to find on the other side of the door. Thor lying awkwardly inside a crib, that was indeed too small for a man of his physique, with Tony cuddled very close to him, was definitely a scene Steve would have never imagined.

“Thor?” Steve called whispering, shaking Thor’s shoulder carefully. He wanted to wake Thor up, not Tony, “Thor?”, he called again, though Steve had to repeat the action many times before Thor came awake slowly. “Is everything OK?” Steve asked when he was sure Thor was lucid enough. 

Thor frowned confusedly before answering, “yes.” 

“Why are you in the crib?” Steve questioned. He was the one who had spent the most time around Tony when he was little, and not even him had ever shared the crib with him. 

“Our little fellow refused to sleep alone,” Thor informed while he sat up very slowly, being careful not to disturb Tony’s sleep in the process. Tony stirred a little, but didn’t wake up. “And I remember you once told me it was imperative he slept in the crib to prevent him from wandering around if he woke up in the middle of the night,” Thor explained, a hand reaching for Tony’s favorite stuffed animal and placing it closer to him. 

“But you can take him to your bed when he’s being fussy,” Steve clarified, smiling kindheartedly, “it can’t be comfortable for you to sleep in the crib.”

“That didn’t occur to me,” Thor declared, scratching his head, “But it wasn’t my intention to stay here, I was waiting for Tony to fall asleep first,” he assured while he climbed out of the crib as slowly and carefully as he could, “But I think it happened the other way around,” he finished saying, standing next to Steve.

Exactly six seconds later, Steve saw Tony’s hand groping on the side of the bed where Thor was supposed to be, screwing his face up when he realized the space was empty. Slowly, Tony came to his senses and propped himself up a little on one of his elbows while he rubbed his eyes with a hand. It didn’t take Tony long to spot both he and Thor, and Steve smiled fondly when Tony’s expression let him know he had been recognized. That smiled faded as soon as Tony’s face crumbled and his eyes filled with tears. 

“No, baby boy, don’t cry, I’m here,” Steve soothed, walking closer to the crib and putting the side down to hold Tony in his arms. “Shhh, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Steve asked worryingly when Tony started to cry harder instead of starting to calm down as he usually did whenever he was picked up. But Tony didn’t give Steve an answer, he just clung to him tightly and kept weeping.

“He has been doing that all evening,” Thor informed.

“What? Why?” Steve questioned, bouncing Tony and rubbing slow circles onto his back. Tonight was surely going to be one of those nights in which Tony would sleep with him. 

“I’m not sure, he couldn’t get him to tell me the reason, he just kept calling for _daddy_ , and I’m certain he was referring to you,” Thor told him before pressing a kiss to the top of Tony’s head, “I trust you can handle him from now on. I’m going to call Jane, I promised I was going to call her three hours ago,” he said while he walked towards the door, not seeing how Steve had been taken aback by what he had said.

Steve’s face brightened indescribably as he experienced a burst of warmth inside of him. It was the first time Tony called him _daddy_ , and he undoubtedly liked that term.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter. 
> 
> Hope you like it!
> 
> If you see any mistakes, please let me know :)

"Look! He's alive! He's alive!" Clint said mockingly as soon as Tony stepped into the living room. 

"First of all, it’s _it’s alive_ , not _he’s alive_ ,” Tony corrected him, “and secondly, shut up," he demanded, his voice sounding more boring than demanding. 

"I thought Dummy would have to come here to let us know you'd passed away." Clint's expression suddenly turned serious and concerned. If Tony didn't know him better, he'd have believed it was for real. "Or maybe Dummy would set your dead body on fire by accident first," Clint continued, Tony kicked him half-heartedly when he walked in front of him, on his way to the couch. 

"I said shut up," Tony ordered again, flopping down on the couch next to Clint. "I have a headache and your voice is making it worse." Tony sobbed his temples, if only that was enough to get rid of the headache. 

"Well, what did you expect? You've been down there for more than a week, I'm shocked you haven't developed a permanent migraine," Clint scolded, his brows furrowing in a combination of concern and anger. Who knew how many times Clint had tried - as well as the others - to talk him into taking a break and leaving the workshop over the last week. Nobody had succeeded. "Have you had anything to eat?" Clint asked him, though Tony didn't know why, the answer was more than obvious. Clint huffed, standing up and walking away. 

"What's that?" Tony asked when Clint came back and held out both hands, a pill on one and a glass of water in the other. 

"An aspirin. Take it," Clint ordered and Tony obeyed, being too tired to argue. "You're definitely going to bed before you decide to hibernate in your workshop again," Clint informed. By the tone of his voice, Tony could tell he wasn't kidding. Clint could be pretty easygoing and laid-back himself, but once in a while he could behave just like a responsible adult. 

"I was working on some improvements for your arrows," Tony mumbled, excusing himself, his hands going back to support his head. Yes, he was definitely going to bed, he needed to sleep. 

"So what? My arrows aren't going anywhere. Besides, I don't remember asking you for anything," Clint acknowledged, placing one hand on Tony's forehead and the other on his to compare temperatures. "You don't have a fever, " Clint informed after deciding their temperatures were pretty much the same. 

"I never said I did," Tony retorted as he leaned on the back of the couch to get away from Clint's reach. 

"Just checking." Clint shrugged, sitting down again next to Tony. "Well, you should probably eat something more nutritional, but there's nothing but pizza. So, eat some and then you're off to... What the hell?!" Clint exclaimed when, all of the sudden, Tony straightened, kneeled on the couch and jumped behind it. Just a second after the elevator had beeped. 

“What the hell what?" Phil asked when he stepped into the living room, a box of pizza in his hands. 

Clint turned his torso around, one arm braced against the back of the couch while he used to other prop himself up a little, in order to be able to lean and look down at Tony, "Really Tony? Really?” Clint asked with disbelief. Tony just curled into a littler ball, trying hard to hide his whole body behind the sofa. 

“Tony? Is Tony there?” Phil asked, walking over them. He joined Clint on the sofa once he had placed the pizza on the coffee table. “Oh, yes, Tony is here,” he replied to himself, “What are you doing there?” 

“He thought you were Steve,” Clint answered for him, earning a snort from Tony. 

“I did not,” Tony assured, sounding annoyed. 

Except, he did. He had been avoiding Steve for several days now. 

“Then, why did you run and hide?” Phil questioned.

“I told you, because he thought you were Steve,” Clint repeated, flopping down on the couch again. “You gotta stop doing that, you’re gonna end up jumping from a window one of these days,” he commented, reaching for the pizza box. 

“It wasn’t because of that!” Tony snapped, standing up.

“Then why?” Clint asked as he opened the box and grabbed a slice of pizza. His nose wrinkled when he saw the ingredients. “Phiiiil,” he said with a whinny tone, “Pineapple? C’mon man!”

“Oh, just give it to me,” Phil suggested, rolling his eyes. “So, why?” he directing his attention to Tony again. Tony opened his mouth with the intention of voicing an answer, but no words were pronounced. 

“Dude, you really have to get over it, Steve’s told you thousands of times he doesn’t care if you call him daddy,” Clint commented absently, completely focus on the task of putting the pieces of pineapple from his slice of pizza to Phil’s. 

Tony felt his face burn in shame. The mere fact of remembering what had happened made him feel a weird sensation in his stomach. The absurd meltdown, his ridiculous whimpering and, on top of that, his greatly embarrassing idea of referring to Steve as _daddy_. What the hell was he thinking? 

When he had woken up the next day, in Steve’s bedroom, on Steve’s bed, blurry memories of the previous night bombarded his mind. Steve trying to calm him down unsuccessfully, and him crying while he repeated _sorry daddy_ several times between hiccups. When Steve woke up and looked at him with such an incredibly fond smile, Tony felt so embarrassed and mortified that the only thing he managed to do was getting out of bed and running out of the bedroom before Steve could say anything.

And that had been when the avoiding had begun. Tony was now officially freaking out. If he was still coming to terms with the whole _playing_ thing, getting that attached to someone was something he was definitely not ready to deal with. Because that was what calling Steve daddy meant, Tony was growing way too fond of Steve and things never turned out well when he did that. Besides, it also meant putting a lot of responsibility on Steve, and who was he to do such a thing? 

It took Steve a few days to figure out Tony was avoiding him, after all, hiding in the workshop didn’t differ too much from locking himself there to work. Although, once he realized that, it only took him a few hours to put two and two together, and that had been when the chasing had started. Steve cornered Tony every time he had the chance, and tried to made Tony talk about what was bothering him – which only caused him more mortification since heart-to-heart talks were a Steve’s thing, not his – but Tony always managed to talk his way out of it. 

Of course Steve ended up getting tired of his evasions, and began to be more persistent, but that only made Tony avoid him more. He even denied the access to anyone to his workshop – JARVIS might take the team’s side when he’s being too _Tony_ for his own good, but not even the A.I. could do anything when Tony overwrote some of its code to prevent that from happening – and ended up using his safe word for a couple of Saturdays in a row. 

“For the matter, I can be your bro and mister suit here can be your uncle,” Clint suggested, taking Tony out of his stupor. He took a bite of his pineapple-less pizza and grimaced, it still tasted a little like pineapple. 

“Shut up,” Tony demanded. 

“Thor could be your grandpa, you know, him being very old even if he doesn’t look a day over thirty. And Natasha your mommy,” Clint continued, “Well, no, don’t ever call her like that, she might try to throw a knife at you.”

“You’re a pain,” Tony stated, attempting to leave, but Phil tugged at his t-shirt when he walked by him and made him fall down on the sofa. “What the hell?” he asked, turning his head and glaring at Phil.

“You’re not leaving this room until you’ve eaten something, young man,” Phil warned, leaning to take the pizza box and putting it closer to Tony. 

Tony thought about refusing, but in that precise moment his stomach decided to growl loudly, reminding him the only thing he had in his stomach was an energy bar he had eaten who knows how many hours ago. In spite of himself, he took a slice of pizza and groaned with pleasure when he tasted it. 

\- - - -

“Jesus! Are you out of your mind?!” Bruce exclaimed looking down at Tony, releasing the breath he had been holding. “What are you doing here?” he asked, and Tony was sure that, by ‘here’, Bruce meant ‘here sat on the floor between the bed and a nightstand’. Tony just shrugged and smiled shyly. “I thought someone had broken into,” Bruce indicated, putting down the lamp he had taken in case he had had to hit someone. “You know you can’t come into my room without previous notice, what if I hulk out?!” he scolded. Tony knew how sensitive Bruce could be about that. 

“Sorry,” Tony murmured, someday he would get it through Bruce’s head that he was completely confident Bruce would never hurt him that way.

Bruce sighed deeply and sat down on the bed, close to Tony, trying to calm down before talking again, “what are you doing here?” he repeated, clearly curious. Tony doubted Bruce didn’t know what he was doing there. “So?” Bruce insisted when Tony failed to voice an answer. 

“Fixing something?” Tony suggested, looking away.

“Yeah? What can you possibly be fixing at such a late hour?” Bruce played along, though Tony knew it wasn’t going to last long. 

“The TV?” Tony suggested once more, fidgeting. 

“Really? I didn’t know it was broken. I don’t even use it.” Bruce acknowledged. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony could see Bruce’s glare was deepening. 

“That’s why it broke. Gadgets tend to break down more when you don’t use them,” Tony said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. Bruce didn’t fall for it. 

“How long are you going to continue this nonsense?” Bruce questioned, serious. 

“Fixing things?” Tony asked, voice falsely confused and eyes looking up at Bruce, puppy eyes in full force. They never worked on Bruce. 

“Stop playing dumb. You know perfectly well I’m talking about the whole avoiding Steve thing.”

“I’m not!” Tony assured, feeling annoyed. Was every single one of them going to accused him of the same thing? 

“Then what are you doing here?” Bruce folded his arms over his chest, twisting his face into an expression of disapproval. 

“I already told you,” Tony said, slightly whiny. 

“You told me a lie. Now I want you to tell me the real reason,” Bruce commanded, using a tone of voice which indicated Tony he wasn’t going to take any more gibberish.

But what was he supposed to say? That after eating some pizza, Clint and Phil had sent him to bed. Though he never made it to his bedroom because the answer JARVIS gave him when Tony asked the A.I. about Steve’s whereabouts had been ‘in your living room, sir’? That would certainly be admitting all of them were right, that Tony was avoiding Steve, and he wasn’t doing that.

So, instead of heading to his floor, he ended up in Bruce’s floor. Tony might have as well gone back to his workshop, but he was truly tired and sleeping on a couch didn’t sound to be as good as sleeping on a bed. 

“Tony,” Bruce said, continuing with his warning tone of voice. 

“My room is flooded?” Tony tried again. Bruce sighed frustratingly. 

“OK, you don’t wanna talk about it, fine by me. But you’re not handling this correctly, you should really talk to Steve,” Bruce advised, standing up and walking towards the closet. “I ran into him in the elevator. He looked sad,” he informed as he looked through his clothes. 

That comment uneased Tony more than he was willing to admit. He didn’t want Steve to feel that way, if he was avoiding him it was because he wanted to take a load off Steve, not cause him any discomfort. Standing up and riding the elevator to Steve’s floor would be such an easy task to do, even so, Tony’s legs didn’t seem to want to move. Maybe because the difficult thing to do here was talking to him, not going to him. 

A t-shirt hit him right on the face, making him look at Bruce with a raised eyebrow, questioningly. 

“You’re sleeping over, aren’t you?” Bruce asked, throwing at him a towel too. “I don’t know how long ago you last took a shower, and one thing is for sure, you’re not lying on my bed if water and soap don’t touch your skin first,” he warned before Tony could complain. When he was that tired, he tended to skip shower and go straight to bed. Who knew how many sheets he had had to get rid of just for being stained with oil and several other things. “So, come on, hit the shower while I go I get your supplies,” Bruce order, already walking towards the door. 

Tony didn’t have to be a genius – even if he was one – to know the kind of supplies Bruce meant. He definitely was in his adult headspace which meant he did not need diapers. It was true Tony hadn’t let himself _play_ since that awful night, but he was just fine, he didn’t need to. Besides, being in his little mindset guaranteed Steve’s presence, and he didn’t want that. 

Kneeling and leaning on the bed for support, Tony made sure to express his displeasure with Bruce’s suggestion, “dun neeft anyfin!” he barked, the words sounding muffled against his thumb. When had his thumb slipped into his mouth? Honestly, this thing of the others realizing he was going down into his little headspace before him was extremely annoying sometimes. 

\- - - -

“You have to talk to Steve,” Natasha murmured, kneeling down next to Tony. 

“For fuck’s sake! All of you sound like a broken record!” Tony snapped, punching the wall – or what was left of a wall – next to him. 

“Don’t yell,” Natasha scolded, hitting him on the arm. Though Tony couldn’t feel anything through the armor. “It’s gonna see us.”

“Then mind your own business!” Tony ordered, glaring at her. A shame the gesture couldn’t be appreciated when a helmet was over your head. 

"It _is_ my business," Natasha assured, taking a peek at the Statue of Liberty in front of them. Seriously, Loki never seemed to stop amazing them with his ideas. Tony couldn't help wishing there was a statue of Iron Man. How awesome it would be to fight against a giant version if himself?

"I don't see how this is your business," Tony alleged, seeing hay Ms. Liberty swung her torch again, destroying yet another building. 

"Well, for instance, we're here together," Natasha pointed out, sounding annoyed. 

"So this is what it's all about, you don't like being my partner in crime," Tony said, sounding falsely offended, "why is that? Am I not as good as Clint at throwing arrows? Is my hair more spiked than his? Are my jokes not at funny as his? Doesn’t my cologne smell as good as his? Is my ass not such a good view as his? 'Cause let me tell you, my ass is a work of art," Tony bragged. 

"I've seen your ass more times than I'd like to, and let me tell you it's nothing to write home about." Natasha smiled a bit maliciously before continuing talking, "Even Clint says, and I’m quoting here, your tushy looks better and cuter when it's covered with a diaper."

Tony felt how the heat went up his face right away. The familiarity with which they talked about the whole age play thing made him uneasy. Even Natasha seemed to have gotten kind of comfortable with it, since she joked about it every now and then. A shame that her mocking tended to be at the worst timing. "Shut up! Someone could overhear you!" he demanded, mortified. 

"Who’s going to overhear? Everybody turned off their intercoms when you started playing the ghostbusters’ song at full blast", Natasha reminded him, disapproval in her voice. 

"Hey! We needed a theme song for the battle!" Tony declared, except that that hadn't been the reason why he had done that. It had been more like an excuse for not having to listen to Steve over the intercom. Listening to his voice made him want to run towards him and throw himself into his arms. There was no way he was going to allow himself do that. Not after all the trouble it had been to change partners. "You can totally see the similarity here," Tony said, pointing at the statue in front of them. 

"What? That was a huge marshmallow! That’s far from being a marshmallow!” Natasha disagreed as she pointed at the same statue.

“Technicalities.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at him, before acquiring a serious expression, “but don’t change the topic, you should really talk to Steve,” she advised again, "you're really making a tempest in a teapot," she insisted, placing a hand on his shoulder, pushing it to make him turn and face her. "I ran into him last night. He's really worry about you. He's beating himself trying to figure out if all this wasn’t caused by him. And you're just being stubborn," she informed, and Tony hated how his stomach twisted because of that information, "you men complicate things just because you refused to talk." 

"Excuse me, when was the last time you had a heart-to-heart conversation?" Tony asked, a bit sarcastically. Natasha wasn't exactly the best example of a person with impeccable communication skills, so she didn't have the right to criticize him. 

"OK, Cap here says to get ready, we're proceeding with the plan, " Clint informed over the intercom. Saved by the bell. 

Feeling relieved for not having to continue a conversation Tony certainly didn't want to have, he turned to look at the lamest remake of a Godzilla film scene he had ever seen – really, a statue's gown shouldn't move like that. Although, only a couple of minutes later, Tony really wished he had kept talking to Natasha, because that would have meant not having to watch Steve being crushed by the statue’s sandal. 

"Daddy!" The word slipped his mouth without realizing it as his heart stopped for a thousandth of a second. 

\- - - -

Tony sat down in the Quinjet alone, suit-less, waiting for the others to arrive as he squirmed on his seat. Once more, he had skipped the check-up and decontamination, but instead of going back to the Tower as he usually did, he had decided to ride the Quinjet back home. He felt stupid. And embarrassed. And angry. And a lot more different and contrasting feelings that were overwhelming him enormously. 

What the hell had been that outburst? After seeing Steve disappear under the statue’s foot, Tony had pounced on it, his heart pounding out of his chest until he caught sight of Steve again. It was obvious that Captain America wasn’t going to be defeated by a stomp, the man had been beaten several times, in a much worse way, and nothing had happened to him besides getting some bruises here and there. But the mere thought of something happening to Steve had taken Tony’s breath away. What if this was the battle in which the serum failed for the first time? Tony wouldn’t be able to talk to him anymore, and that was just awful, especially since he had been avoiding him for days. 

But of course, nothing had happened, Tony had ruined their strategy in vain. Thankfully, Thor had found Loki not long after and had made him turn the statue lifeless again. It took around thirty minutes to convince Loki to change it back to its previous pose, though. The worldwide famous icon couldn’t be put back in its place raising the middle finger instead of the torch – Clint’s comment about people not noticing the change if the finger was lit was completely ignored. 

Tony had made a fool of himself. The way he had behaved had shown how right the others had been. He did need to talk to Steve. He did need to put an end to this nonsense. And even if this wasn’t going to be the time or place to do so, Tony did need to see Steve with his own eyes before anything else, he needed to make sure he was fine indeed. The little side of him was to blame for this, in spite of himself, Tony felt how that headspace was taking over him. Something that tended to happened whenever he didn’t let himself _play_. 

“But that’d be fun!” Clint exclaimed as he entered the jet, bringing Tony out of this stupor. 

“No, it wouldn’t!” Natasha argued, following him “You’re not telling Thor to tell Loki to bring to life anything else!” she ordered. 

“Why not? You gotta admit it, fighting against the Statue of Liberty was pretty awesome!” Clint said, sounding way too enthusiastic. Tony squirmed more. There were no signs of Steve. 

“You have a broken arm!” Natasha reminded, pointing at the cast Clint had. “Say something!” she told Bruce, but the ladder just shrugged. The only thing Bruce care after a battle was putting some clothes on that weren’t torn. 

“Oh yeah! would you sign it?” Clint asked, a broad smile on his face. Natasha groaned loudly and walked towards the pilot’s seat. It was obvious Clint wasn’t going to pilot the Quinjet this time. “Really? You’re not signing it?”

“Would you give it a rest, Clint? And please, sit down so we can go,” Phil ordered, getting into the jet.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Clint demanded as he sat down and tried to buckle his seatbelt, but it was a difficult task to do when you could use only one arm. Phil had to buckle him in. 

“Well, somebody has to make sure you don’t do anything stupid until your arm heals,” Phil commented, sitting down next to him. Tony knew that the second in the list of the people who didn’t handle the whole healing process well was Clint. The one who headed that list was Tony, of course. 

“You’re not fun,” Clint murmured, “Hey! Would you sign my cast?!” he asked, Phil rolled his eyes. 

“Fasten your seatbelt, Tony,” Phil ordered, ignoring how Clint conducted a body search on him, surely looking for a pen or anything with ink. 

“Hey! I didn’t see you there, man! What was all that about?” Clint asked Tony, referring to what had happened during the battle. Something that Tony did not want to talk about. A topic Tony would avoid covering as much as possible. The moment Tony saw Steve, he was out of there. Getting scolded in front of everybody wasn’t something Tony wanted to experience. He didn't want to make a scene there. 

Easy said than done, though. As soon as Steve stepped into the jet, a sob escaped from Tony’s throat, and before he knew it, he was standing up and running towards him. He should have fastened his seatbelt. 

"Sorry, daddy, sorry," Tony apologized, throwing himself into Steve's arms. 

"Hey, hey, what's wrong buddy?" Steve asked, taken aback. With no hesitation he picked Tony up, who immediately threw his arms and legs around Steve’s neck and waist respectively. “Hey, take it easy kiddo,” Steve cooed, tightening his embrace. “Shhh, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” he promised when Tony failed to pronounce anything intelligible. So much for not wanting to make a scene. 

“Guys… ehm... I know you’re having a moment there, but… would you mind sitting down? I’d like to go,” Tony heard Bruce ask shyly after clearing his throat. 

“Oh yes, sorry.” Steve walked towards his seat and sat down, settling Tony on his lap, not losing his embraced at any moment. 

“Sorry,” Tony managed to say with a tiny voice after several minutes. It was kind of embarrassing how long it took him to calm down lately after he started crying. 

“Sorry for what, sweetpea?” Steve asked, rubbing his thumb on Tony’s arm. Tony certainly disliked that habit of Steve of making him speak his mind. If Steve already knew what had been the reason of all this mess, couldn’t he just let it go? But apparently he wouldn’t, as he squeezed his arm gently as a gesture of encouragement. 

“Call you… call you da…” Tony trailed off, now that he was more calm, he just couldn’t bring himself to pronounce the D word. 

“Calling me _daddy_?” Steve questioned, making Tony blushed intensely as he nodded shyly. "Oh, you silly, silly boy," Steve said fondly, hugging him tightly. "I meant it when I said I didn’t mind you calling me daddy, quite the opposite actually, I'm flattered," he assured, kissing Tony's forehead. Tony let himself close his eyes while it lasted, savoring the moment, before another sob escaped from his throat. 

"But... But…”

"But nothing. You can call me however you want. Daddy, dadda, papa. It doesn't matter. The way you call me won't change the fact that you're my sweet silly baby boy," Steve stated, grabbing Tony’s nose with two fingers and pulling it playfully. Tony shook his face trying to get rid of Steve’s grip. Steve chuckled. “Are we clear?” he questioned, looking serious all of a sudden, staring at his eyes. It took Tony some seconds to nod. “Call me daddy,” he asked after kissing Tony on the temple. 

Tony’s body tensed as his fingers curled hard into the fabric of Steve’s t-shirt. Really, why couldn’t he just let it go? “Da… da… daddy,” he stuttered, the word still feeling weird in his tongue. But then Steve smiled goofily, and that gave Tony a strangely nice feeling in his stomach. 

“Yes, I’m your daddy. And I’m going to be your daddy as long as you want me to,” Steve promised, the smile still on his face. Tony had to hide his face against Steve’s chest, to overwhelmed by the affection that was radiating from Steve. "Oh, we have a pretty little shy baby here,” he chuckled, squeezing Tony a little and nuzzling his head with his nose. “Let's get you changed," he announced. 

Tony whined slightly when Steve stood up with him in his arms and walked some steps before leaning on and taking a bag that was lying on the floor near the entrance. A diaper bag – really, did Steve keep one of them everywhere?

Soon, Tony found himself being put down on the floor, on the top of a changing pad Steve had spread seconds ago. He thought about complaining, not really in a mood of being diapered there in front of everybody, but contradicting Steve after everything that had happened didn't feel right. 

So, Tony just hid his face behind the stuffed animal he had been handed – because it was obvious there had been one in the diaper bag besides the diapers, Steve thought of everything – while Steve took off both his pants and boxers at the same time. He had been changed many times by every single person in the jet, but somehow, when there was more than one person in the room, Tony felt embarrassed. Therefore, when Steve finished diapering him and picked him up, it was a huge relief to realize that no one had been paying attention to them. Natasha had her eyes focused on what was in front of her, Clint was trying to figure out what Phil's doodles on his cast were going to be and Bruce was dozing off. 

Steve sat down again, cradling him on his lap. Instantly, Tony snuggled as close as he could to his chest, thumb already moving to his mouth. 

"Don't do that sweetheart, you haven't washed your hands," Steve said as he stopped Tony's hand from moving further, slipping a pacifier intro his mouth before Tony could complain. "That’s better, isn’t it?” he asked, brushing some hair off Tony’s forehead. 

Tony said nothing. Jesus, how much he had missed this! 

“By the way, you're grounded," Steve informed as he caressed his tummy. Tony whined loudly, feeling too lazy to voiced anything. "Oh yes, not sleeping correctly, eating nothing but junk food, drinking nothing but coffee, locking yourself in the workshop, not letting JARVIS tell us anything about you, disobeying orders during battle, and worse, denying daddy of your presence,” Steve listed, and Tony couldn’t help quivering a bit at how sad Steve had sounded when he pronounced the last sentence. “I hope you had made a huge progress on your projects, because for the next days the workshop is going to be out of limits and the only thing you're going to do is letting me pamper you," Steve informed, raising Tony's shirt a little and leaning to kiss his tummy, causing him a ticklish and comforting sensation. 

That punishment didn't sound so bad, in Tony’s opinion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this turned out to be longer than I expected, thats why it took me longer to write it. 
> 
> I wasnt sure if I should use a capital _s_ when I wrote the words _statue_ , so, if I should, please let me know so I correct it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you see any mistakes, please :)

“No!” Steve heard Tony shout, husky voice, for the eighth time since he had started making lunch. Sighing, Steve shook his head and tried to focus on the burgers cooking on the grill pan, he didn’t want them to overcook just because he didn’t flip them over at the correct moment. “No! Gimme!” he heard Tony again, sounding more distressed. 

“Tony, stop yelling, you’re going to hurt your throat,” Steve asked from the kitchen, loud enough to make sure Tony hear him but not enough to give him the false idea of being angry. 

“But that way is boring,” Clint complained, “look, this way is much cooler,” he assured.

“No!” Tony denied again. Apparently, Steve’s request had fallen on deaf ears. 

“Yes! This tower needs to be taller,” Clint defended.

“No!” Tony repeated. 

“Yes! How else are they gonna see the enemies getting closer? They need a watchtower,” Clint insisted, and Steve could hear him moving the Lego bricks he knew they were playing with. “It’ll look awesome, I’ll show you.”

“NOOO!!” Tony cried, panting in a way Steve just knew he was struggling with something. Huffing slightly, Steve put the spatula down and turned off the stove, he wanted to go to check on Tony and Clint without being worried of ruining the burgers. 

The scene Steve saw as he stepped into the living room was exactly the one he had pictured: Tony and Clint sitting on the floor, surrounded by several Lego constructions, and pulling the bag where the rest of the Lego bricks were kept.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Steve asked as he stood right behind them and folded his arms over his chest, making sure his expression and tone of voice showed how much he disapproved of what was happening. It didn’t work though, since Tony and Clint kept trying to get the bag for themselves. 

“Give it to me!” Clint demanded, “let me show you, if you don’t like it I’ll leave it as it was before!” he promised, his hand turning red from the effort of pulling. Clint was undoubtedly stronger than Tony – suit-less Tony – and he would surely have gotten the bag if it hadn’t been for the fact that his other arm was still in a cast and immobilized in a sling. 

“NO! I dun wanna!!” Tony pulled harder, his face as red as Clint’s hand. 

“Hey! Stop it, you two!” Steve raised his voice, and he could see how both jumped as they let go of the bag at the same time, so deep into their fight that they hadn’t noticed his presence. “Clint, I asked you to keep an eye on him and keep him calm, not to bother him,” he scolded. 

“I just wanted to add a watchtower, I wasn’t going to ruin anything,” Clint murmured, pouting in a way that Steve had to try real hard not to chuckle. 

“Mine!” Tony informed, taking advantage of Clint’s distraction to lean over the bag and take it. 

“You, little mister, have to learn to share,” Steve said. Tony held the bag to his chest harder, and look up at Steve challengingly. Steve sighed. 

“I’m bored!” Clint complained, sounding way too whiny. “Let me go to train,” he pleaded, not caring whatsoever that Tony had gotten the bag. 

“You know I promised Phil not to let you do anything that would prevent your bone from mending correctly,” Steve said as he kneeled to take a look at Tony’s diaper, and even if the latter squirmed and didn’t let him insert his index finger to check for wetness, Steve could see it was squishy and a change was definitely required.

“I’ll be careful, I promise!” Clint insisted as Steve picked up a squirmy Tony from the floor. 

“Sorry, but no,” Steve denied, “I promise we’ll go running or something in a couple of weeks if you want to, but right now you must rest, the injury is still too recent,” he explained while he tried to settle Tony down on the couch, but the latter refused to lie still, pushing Steve so he could straighten up. 

“No!” Tony whined when Steve placed a hand on his chest and push him gently, encouraging him to lie down and stay like that. 

“I’ll be quick sweetpea, I promise,” Steve assured, already working on unsnapping the crotch of the striped onesie Tony was wearing. 

Over the last days, Tony had acquired an aversion for diaper changes. Anyone would have thought it was due to embarrassment, but Steve knew that what bothered Tony was the discomfort the cool air caused when it made contact with his damped and warm skin once the diaper was unlatched. Tony might have as well gotten used to that sensation by now – after all, he had been wearing diapers long before they began _playing_ – but his body temperature being higher than usual, Steve figured the discomfort was worse. 

Oh yes, because, to Tony’s misfortune as well as Steve’s, the former had gotten sick. There had gone all the fun activities that Steve had had in mind to spend some quality time with his little boy! That didn’t mean Tony hadn’t stayed little – quite the opposite actually, Steve was completely sure the malaise had pushed Tony further into his little headspace, as he surely behaved littler than ever – but if Steve felt uneasy whenever Tony got sick, seeing his baby boy ill troubled him even more. 

It hadn’t been anything serious, just a cold. The thing was that Tony had neglected his health a lot on the days he had been avoiding Steve, so the cold was taking more time than it should to go away. And if Steve had thought that taking care of a sick Tony was hard, taking care of him when he was sick and little was just exhausting. 

Not surprisingly, Tony had denied feeling bad at first. But soon his temperature rose to a point it was considered fever and the cough got so persistent it couldn’t be taken as a simple hoarseness anymore. It had been really hard to convince Tony to let Bruce check up on him, not only because he dreaded doctors (yes, Steve knew perfectly well that Bruce wasn’t that kind of doctor, but he was the closest thing to one in the Tower) but also because by that time Tony had gotten clingy. Extremely clingy. 

It wasn’t that Steve was bothered by it, not in the slightest, he loved having Tony in his arms and giving him as much comfort as possible. The problem was that there were some moments Steve did need to put Tony down and the latter just wouldn’t let go of him. Thor had had to help him once to detach Tony’s hands from his t-shirt, which he was clung to with an incredibly strength as if his life depended on that. The way Tony had wailed when he saw him walking away had broken Steve’s heart, but his bladder had been very close to burst and it just didn’t seem correct to Steve to go to the bathroom with Tony in his arms. 

But then, all of a sudden, there were some other moments when Tony just wanted to be left alone. If Steve made the smallest attempt to go closer, Tony would get livid – though that didn’t mean Steve was allowed to leave the room, if he intended to do so, things got worse. Steve figured that happened when Tony felt unclean, so to speak. Like the times he sweat too much due to the fever, or the couple of times when the coughing had gotten so bad Tony had ended up throwing up because of the effort. 

So, the coughing had been the worst thing. It had caused Tony a terrible sore throat, making him hoarse. Three days had gone without him saying much, and in a different situation, Steve would have considered cute how Tony limited his way of communicating to a very few words, squeals, grunts and growls. But it wasn’t a different situation, and Steve just loathed the wince on Tony’s face whenever he tried to talk. In like manner, swallowing became a really painful thing to do. Steve had had a hard time trying to make Tony eat something or take the pills and syrup Bruce has prescribed. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Steve apologized. The baby wipes he was using to clean him up were certainly cold, and Tony had made sure of express his discomfort. “I know you don’t like it, but I don’t want you to develop a rash,” he explained, caressing his chest gently with the intention of calming him down. Steve was trying to work as fast as he could, but he was still using a hand to keep Tony still, so changing a diaper with only one hand wasn’t exactly an easy task. 

“Stop,” Tony whined.

“Shhh, I’m almost done, FuzzyBear, almost done,” Steve promised, reaching for a diaper and unfolding it. Quickly, so he didn’t give Tony enough time to roll over and crawl away – because Tony had done that a couple of times over the last days – Steve lifted his hips, slipped the diaper under him and smoothed the straps into place. “You see, it’s all done,” he announced, bending down and kissing Tony on the nose. Tony squirmed and moved his head away. Steve might have gotten offended if he hadn’t seen that twinkle in his eyes, little Tony couldn’t really deny how much he liked those displays of affection as well as adult Tony did. 

“What about going to the movies?” Clint suggested while Steve snapped the onesie shut over Tony’s diaper. He sat down on the sofa and pulled Tony until he was sitting on his lap, but he began to struggle to get free. Steve placed a hand on his forehead. A bit warmer than normal, but far from being considered feverish. He removed his arm from around Tony’s waist and the latter stood up immediately, his diaper-clad bottom producing a hollow sound that filled the room when he flopped down on the floor in front of the Lego bricks.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Steve noted, stroking Tony’s hair. 

“Why not? It doesn’t require any physical effort,” Clint assured. He grabbed one brick and examined it just to give his mind something to distract with, but Tony took it away almost immediately. Clint rolled his eyes before looking up at Steve again. “I bet I can finish watching the movie without moving my arm at all,” he said sarcastically.

Steve glared at him, “don’t you remember they kicked us out the last time we went to the movies?” 

“They totally overreacted! I’m not the only one who’s ever thrown popcorn to people!” Clint defended himself.

“Popcorn, not nachos! Nachos with cheese!” Steve expressed, annoyed. Sometimes it was a bit amazing how Clint’s mind worked. 

“Whatever.” Clint belittled. “C’mon Steve, I’m bored out of my mind!” 

“Sorry buddy, I agree with Phil,” Steve stated, “better safe than sorry.”

“Oh my God! You two are unbelievable!” Clint affirmed a bit too melodramatically as he usually did whenever he didn’t get what he wanted – something he and Tony had in common apparently. 

In slow motion, Steve could see how Clint threw himself backwards as a way of increasing his melodrama, arm extended. Said arm knocked over the castle Tony had been building, whose face screwed up instantaneously as it flushed red in anger. There it went Steve’s idea of having a peaceful afternoon. 

\- - - -

“C’mon sweetheart, let’s go have lunch,” Steve asked once more, trying to hold Tony’s hand, but Tony kept shaking the grip off. “I made your favorite dish, hamburgers, don’t you like them anymore?” he insisted. 

“No!” Tony lied, slapping Steve’s hand. Steve sighed. 

“I know for a fact that you love burgers,” Steve assured, keeping all the frustration he was feeling from his voice. Now that Tony’s throat wasn’t hurting to the point of refraining him from swallowing, Steve had thought it would be a good idea to kind of reward him for having been a good boy and let himself being taken care of by feeding him with something he actually liked – Steve did prefer cooking more nutritious food whenever Tony was little, but he didn’t ignore the fact that Tony wasn’t too keen on it. It was a real shame that Steve had been trying to talk Tony into eating for around thirty minutes, unsuccessfully. 

After Clint knocked over his Lego castle, Tony had gone livid, punching and kicking Clint who placed his forearms in front of him out of reflex to protect himself. Very bad idea when having a broken arm. Steve had had to separate them and he had even swatted Tony’s bottom a couple of times to make him come to his senses, afraid his little outburst continued and hurt Clint for real. 

Then, the crying had started, more out of frustration than from the spanks – Steve always made sure to curve his hand so the spanks were noisier than painful, as the spanks were meant to attract his attention, not to hurt him. That had been when Clint had gotten fairly distressed. He apologized to Tony to the point of exhaustion while Steve rocked him trying to calm him down, but Tony gave no signs of wanting to talk to any of them. 

And finally, when Tony cooled down enough, he set himself the objective of building the castle all over again, exactly as it had been. He had destroyed it angrily three times already, his inner perfectionist deciding it didn’t look quite the same. 

“I’ll help you building it once we had had lunch, I promise,” Steve said while he attempted to hold his hand again, with no luck. 

“I could help, I think I remember how it was,” Clint suggested with a tiny voice from the corner he was sitting in, out of Tony’s sight. Steve had asked him to back away, not blaming him at all for what had happened but certain Tony wouldn’t calm down if he continued there. 

“NO!” Tony repeated, pushing Steve so he didn’t invade his space. Steve let himself being pushed away, though Tony only managed to move him just a couple of inches away. “Go!” he ordered crankily. 

Resigned, Steve stood up. Even if he disliked greatly these moments, Steve could recognize this was one of those times when Tony wanted to be left alone for real. Decisively, he walked over to Clint, holding out his hand to help the latter stand up. “Let’s have lunch,” Steve offered, there was no point to keep insisting Tony to stop what he was doing to go and eat something, but there was also no valid reason for Clint and him to refrain themselves from having lunch either. 

“I didn’t mean to destroy it,” Clint stated one more time as he let Steve pull him to his feet, his voice showing Steve how bad he felt about the whole situation. “I swear I didn’t.” 

“Take it easy, I know you didn’t,” Steve reassured, placing a hand on Clint’s lower back and guiding him to the kitchen. 

“He’s mad,” Clint commented, turning his head enough to be able to take a quick glance at Tony. 

“Yes, but he’ll get over it, he’s just a bit grumpy because he still hasn’t recovered from the cold completely.” Steve explained while he pulled up a chair so Clint could sit down. “Let’s eat, you’ll feel better with a full stomach.”

“But what about Tony?” Clint asked, his head still turned to look at him. 

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll come when he’s ready,” Steve remarked, ruffling Clint’s hair on his way to the counter. He needed to heat up the hamburgers again, since they had surely gotten cold. He heard Clint sighed heavily. 

\- - - -

“What did you do?” Phil asked Clint as soon as he walked into the kitchen. 

“What? Nothing!” Clint shrieked defensively. Steve chuckled. 

“You have that look on you face,” Phil pointed out, moving closer to them and taking a sit next to Clint at the table. “The look that tells me you did something you shouldn’t have and you don’t want me to fine out.” 

“I don’t have that look!” Clint objected.

“What did he do, Steve?” Phil turned and looked at Steve, his face serious. 

“Nothing,” Steve assured, though he could tell by Phil’s expression that he didn’t believe him. “What are you doing here? I thought you were coming back until late at night,” he questioned to change the topic. Clint was already feeling bad enough to have Phil scolding him for something he wasn’t really guilty of. 

Phil squinted at Clint, surely trying to read something else in his face, before answering, “I need you to go with Natasha to SHIELD,” he informed, turning his gaze to Steve. 

“What? Why?” Steve asked, taken aback by the sudden request. If he had known that was the reason of Phil’s arrival, he wouldn’t have changed the subject. It was awful when his decisions backfired on him. 

“We’ve got a hint about a probable HYDRA small headquarter, we need you and Natasha to go and check on it,” Phil explained, folding his arms over the table. 

“Now? Can’t it be later?” Usually, Steve would have a foot out of the door as soon as the words _HYDRA_ and _hint_ were pronounced, God only knew how much he wanted to take that organization down once and for all, but right in that moment, Steve just couldn’t do that.

On the sly, he turned his head slightly and laid his eyes on Tony, not wanting Phil to realize he was the reason why Steve wouldn’t just stand up and follow an order as it was expected from a captain, especially from Captain America. Yes, Steve was a hero, he had a huge responsibility towards society, and he bore that responsibility proudly. But looking at Tony sitting down a few meters away from him, not worried about anything but the unfinished Lego construction in front of him, Steve just couldn’t bring himself to do anything else but stay there and look after him. 

Because that was exactly what Tony expected from him. He might not be good at expressing with words what he really thought or felt, though Steve was completely sure the carefree behavior Tony showed whenever he was into his little headspace was due to the trust Tony has on him, a way of telling him he needed him there. It was true that, little by little, Tony had started to feel comfortable enough to _play_ whenever the other team members were around, but it was easy to see that Tony’s interaction with the others and his interaction with Steve was different. 

How could Steve know that? Well, to begin with, Steve was totally sure Tony would have never remained in his little mindset while being sick if he wasn't around. Both states kept Tony very vulnerable and he wasn’t the kind of person who liked to feel vulnerable in front of anybody. However, Tony was still little and he had let Steve take care of him with disregard of how embarrassing or uneasy the whole situation could be for him, and Steve was going to express his gratitude to Tony for trusting him at that level by leaving him when he clearly was not in the correct mindset to be left alone? No, Steve couldn’t do that. He didn’t want to. 

“You know we like to check on these things as soon as possible,” Phil reminded him, clearly sensing Steve’s reluctance. “It might be a false hint, but we can’t never be too careful when it’s a HYDRA matter,” he argued. 

“Can’t someone else go?” Steve urged, his eyes glued on Tony, looking for any hint that tell him Tony was listening to what Phil was saying. None, his stubborn little boy was still focused on his game. 

“Thor just left, Clint has a broken arm and Tony clearly can’t go, and you know I don’t like to send rookies for these kind of things,” Phil pointed out, “Look, I understand that you don’t want to go. I know Tony’s been sick and you don’t want to leave his side until he’s one hundred percent recovered, but, as I said, it might be nothing, so it might not take a lot of time. You’ll be back here before you know it. I’ll look after him while you’re gone, I won’t leave him by himself,” he offered, but that didn’t do anything to ease Steve’s mind. 

“He won’t let me go,” Steve said, already picturing the tantrum Tony was going to throw when he saw him leaving the room. 

“Then go without him seeing you,” Phil proposed, “he looks very focused on what he’s doing, so I guess it won’t be a problem.” Steve breathed heavily, still not sure whether to go or stay. “Steve, you know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary, but what if it turns out to be true I sent Natasha by herself. I know she’s more than capable of taking care of herself, but still.” Phil added, touching a sensitive point, Steve wouldn’t want any of them getting hurt, especially not because of him. 

In spite of himself, Steve stood up and walked towards the elevator as quietly as he could. The quicker he left, the sooner he’d be back. Part of him wanted to bump into something to make some noise and warn Tony of his departure, sure Phil wouldn’t make him leave if he saw how Tony reacted lately when Steve attempted to leave the room where he was, but he knew better than to do that. 

So, Steve reached the elevator without mishap and, after taking a quick look at Tony, he asked JARVIS to take him to the ground floor. He wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or sad that his baby boy hadn’t realized at all that he had gone. 

\- - - -

False alarm. It had been a false alarm. They hadn’t find anything related to HYDRA, just a well-hidden laboratory facility used to manufacture illicit recreational drugs, something the police could have easily dealt with – or maybe not that easily, since they had been clueless about its existence, but that wasn’t the point. The point was Steve had had to gone out for no valid reason – not valid to him, if they had actually found anything related to HYDRA, however insignificant it was, Steve wouldn’t feel this remorseful – and he had had to leave Tony. 

As much as Steve tried to focus on what he was doing, he couldn’t take his mind off the Tower, off Tony. And even if Steve intended to make himself believe that what was bothering him was the fact that he had left Tony when he knew he shouldn’t have, the truth was that what was eating him away was Tony’s reaction. If Tony had thrown a tantrum when Steve walked out of the room, it would have made Steve uncomfortable and he might not have left at all, but it certainly wouldn’t have caused him this uneasy feeling in his stomach. 

“Well, let’s look on the bright side,” Natasha said, startling Steve a little as he had been too deep in his thoughts, “we can have an early night. I don’t know about you, but I really want to sleep, I’ve been awake for more than forty hours,” she commented, looking distractedly at one of her widow’s bites. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Steve agreed, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to arrive to the Tower just yet. 

Because if Steve arrived and he realized Tony hadn’t even noticed his absence, well, he didn’t know how he was going to feel about it. Relieved, he should totally feel relieved if that was the case, but deep down he knew disappointment was most likely what he was going to feel. And wanting someone to be distressed just for the sake of showing Steve he was truly appreciated and needed was just not correct. He was being kind of selfish, and he certainly didn’t like that. 

So, when Steve got off the jet, he made his way to the entrance at a snail’s pace. Natasha had practically shoved him into the elevator, exasperated by his slowness. 

It took him by surprised, and complete inner delight, when he stepped a foot into the communal living room and Tony pounced on him, causing him to fall on his backside while he tried to hold Tony in a way the latter didn’t hurt himself. 

“Daddy, daddy,” Tony called holding Steve desperately. Steve couldn’t help smiling widely even if he was a bit concerned. That word had the power of causing him an eruption of warmth and affection inside his body so pleasingly overwhelming. It was a shame that Tony didn’t say it that often, or in different circumstances. He might have believed Steve when he said he didn’t mind if he called him daddy, but Tony was still ashamed of using that term to refer to Steve, and only used that word whenever he was too distressed to care about anything else. 

“Hey champ, easy, easy, Daddy’s here,” Steve soothed, trying to straighten up a little in order to get a better hold of Tony. 

“Oh my God, you two are annoyingly sickly-sweet sometimes,” Natasha commented as she passed by them on her way to the kitchen, no real heat in her voice. 

“If you had been with Tony over the last hour and a half, you wouldn’t be saying that,” Clint assured, flipping through the channels absent-mindedly. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked, curious. Carefully, he got up off the ground with Tony in his arms and walked towards the sofa where Phil and Clint were, sitting down next to him and resettling Tony on his lap, sideways and back braced against his arms. Without hesitation, Tony curled up into a small ball, clutched Steve’s shirt and pressed his face against his chest, hiding it. Steve tightened his embrace. 

“Well, it took him like five minutes to realize you were gone,” Phil told him as he took the remote from Clint’s hand, clearly annoyed by the fact that Clint didn’t seem to choose what channel to watch. “I could deceive him by telling him you had gone to the bathroom. At first he believed me, but after some time it was obvious you weren’t there,” he continued, turning his head and shooting Clint a warming glance when the latter tried to get the remote back. Clint crossed his arms over his chest – which looked kind of weird because of the sling.

“You’re mean,” Clint accused with a pouting face. 

“And you’re just playing with the remote, you’re gonna break it. Just have JARVIS show you what’s on every channel,” Phil ordered.

“It’s not the same,” Clint argued, but he made no further attempts to recover the remote. 

“Then I’m choosing the channel,” Phil announced, already flipping through the channels. He waited around eight seconds to see and decide if the program shown on the screen was worth watching or not, unlike Clint who thought one second was enough to qualify a TV show. “Anyway, he started to ask for you once more and I kept trying to distract him, but I could tell I was about to have a tantrum under my charge, so I decided to just tell him the truth: that you had to go on a mission,” Phil proceeded, his eyes focused on the TV, looking for a TV show that might interest Clint. 

“And he accepted it just like that?” Steve asked, that uneasiness from before taking over him again. Had little Tony really been able accept his departure just because it had been an official matter? Though Tony’s little gaspy breaths and sudden trembling made Steve think that that hadn’t been the case. 

“He didn’t,” Clint interfered, “during the following hour he was between wanting to take the fact that you’d left as if it wasn’t a big deal and wanting to completely lose it. One minute he was trying to get his mind off it and the next we saw him blinking back tears, and he would get pretty upset if we tried to comfort him. He would hide his face behind a stuffed animal, and then throw it to the wall when he realized what he was doing, just to retrieved it and do the same thing all over again. Man! It was so frustratingly heartbreaking!” he exclaimed, and Steve could tell by his tone of voice that Clint meant that not in a mean way. 

“To tell you the truth, I’m glad he didn’t lose it,” Phil declared, “Dealing with brats, that I can do, but tears? Not a fan,” he said, glancing at Clint. The latter moped once more. 

“Oh, sweetheart, were you trying to be a big boy for me?” Steve asked, a warm, fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Tony didn’t answer anything, but Steve could feel him nodding. “I’m so proud of you, but you don’t have to be a big boy if you don’t want to, you can be my sweet baby boy as long as you want to and I’ll gladly take care of you,” he assured, causing Tony’s trembling to intensify and his little sobs to be noisier. Steve began to rock him back and forth while he leaned a bit to whisper something into his ear, “and if you want to make your displeasure known because daddy left, you’re perfectly allowed to do so,” 

And that was all Steve needed to say so Tony let himself weep freely, crying his frustration away. 

How he could cherish so much the baby boy in his arms was beyond Steve’s comprehension. He just did. And he’ll keep doing it. Steve will keep looking after him, and he’ll keep wanting Tony to look for him and, even if he was a bit selfish from his part, Steve will want Tony to show how much he needed him by his side, at least until Tony decided it was enough. Because no matter how much Steve tried to ignore that little voice in his head, it kept telling him Tony was not the kind who stuck around. 

And Steve definitely wanted to stick around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, I guess I'm reaching a point where I get really frustrasted because I feel I can't quite express myself in English as well as I'd do in my own language. 
> 
> Little things like "when is it necessary to use contractions?" (I mean, when talking - dialogs- , I know contractions are more common, but what about when it's just a descriptive/narrative paragraph?) "how do I know this expression is formal, informal, or even tacky?" There are a lot of expressions I have to look for on the Internet, but I'm not sure if they really express what I want to say. I've learned a lot of collocations throught movies and TV shows, but I guess they're just gonna feel kind of off eveytime I use them because I can't really use them myself in a real context. 
> 
> I don't know, just babbling here XD. 
> 
> And another thing, I don't know if Clint is going to be a little in here or not. I love him as a little too, but I do love everybody focusing on Tony, so, I might just keep him somewhere in between. Like, Phil or somebody else comparing him to a kid, but not really treating him like one, and Clint not really behaving like one. Just random thoughts again. 
> 
> I hope you had enjoyed it.


	5. Chapter 5

“This is something you could’ve handled yourself,” Tony assured as he inserted his keycard to open the door. 

“I won’t deny the fact that I certainly could have, Edwards is a jerk, but he’s far from being the jerkiest person I’ve had the misfortune of dealing with,” Pepper said, walking inside the room right behind Tony. 

“Then why are you making me travel miles away to go to meetings I don’t really need to attend to?” Tony asked annoyed, making a beeline to the minibar of the hotel suite. 

Pepper sighed deeply, sitting down on the sofa of the living room, “We’ve been through this several times Tony,” she complained, “You need to make an appearance every once in a while. People tend to feel more comfortable with closing business deals when the head of the company is present.”

Tony placed a couple of glasses on the counter of the small kitchen, and poured some scotch after putting some ice. Scotch on the rocks, just what he needed after a long fly and endless meetings. “Bull,” he cursed, and he hated how wrong that word felt in his tongue. Steve was really making an impression on him, and Tony wasn’t sure how to take that. “We’re not even closing any deals. The deals were way closed before I even finished the first prototype.”

“You might be right, but people do ask me for you, you know,” Pepper said, crossing her leg, “I’d like to think it’s just because you’re the man with the ideas, but I know a lot of the guys I need to deal with hate the fact they have to make business with a woman. They’re a bunch of sexist jerks.” 

“Here,” Tony said, handing one of the glasses to Pepper. She stretched out her arm to grab it and took a sip of form it. “As you said earlier, you’re totally capable of putting every single them in their place,” he encouraged, sitting heavily on the sofa next to her and moving his drink in circular motion. 

“I know I am,” Pepper agreed. 

“Then why are you making me come to the meetings?” Tony question once more, turning so he could rest a bent leg on the sofa and an arm on its back. 

“Jesus Tony, I swear you’re worse than a child sometimes, repeating the same question over and over again,” Pepper exclaimed as she stared at him, no real heat in her voice. Tony couldn’t help feeling a bit ashamed, and he hoped it didn’t reflect in his face. “You made me a CEO, but you’re still the owner and you do need to deal with this stuff once in a while,” she stated as she stood up, “I’m out of here before you continue whining about the same thing and make me quit.” 

“I don’t whine!” Tony assured. He hadn’t like her choice of words at all. 

“Yes, you do,” Pepper said on her way to the door. “Tomorrow is the last meeting, so please go early to bed, I don’t want to have to drag out of bed like I had to today,” she ordered. 

“But the meeting’s in the afternoon,” Tony commented, confused. 

“Like you had never overslept that late,” Pepper observed, opening the door, “And please call Steve,” she demanded, stopping by the frame of the door, and turning her head to look at Tony. Her expression serious but gentle. 

“What? Why?” Tony asked, clearly taken aback. 

“Because you haven’t called him at least for a couple of days and that’s why you’ve been cranky all day,” Pepper asserted, “whatever is being going between you two seems to be having a good effect on you, so, if you’re mad, please fix it,” she said before going out. Tony’s jaw dropped. 

\- - - - 

Tony sighed in contentment when he got inside the bathtub. Nothing like hot water to get rid of the muscle knots stress had caused him. Have him days in a row in his workshop creating, developing, fixing or upgrading anything, and he gladly do it without feeling more than tired. But drag him to business meeting for a few days, and he’ll be ready to quit his own company, regardless of the consequences that that might result in. 

Absent-mindedly, Tony grabbed his Stark Phone and placed it on the wooden bathtub tray in front of him, scrolling through the app icons. In spite of himself, his finger stopped over the contact list icon and hesitated whether to select it or not, knowing perfectly well the first name he would see would be Steve’s – well, actually, Tony would see the word _daddy_ on the screen, as Clint had changed it once he had been goofing around, and after seeing Steve’s expression of contentedness when he saw it, Tony hadn’t been able to bring himself to change the name back. 

Naturally, Pepper had been had been right. She was always right. The only way to explain her accuracy was assuring she was a witch. Yes, Pepper must be a witch or something like that, otherwise she wouldn’t know what was happening in Tony’s head all the time, sometimes even before Tony could figure it out by himself. 

During the first days of their meetings tour, Tony had kept in touch with Steve, calling him as soon as he was in his hotel room and Pepper had called it a night. They chatted about nothing in particular, and Tony got the feeling Steve took advantage of those calls to find out on the sly if he was taking proper care of himself. But, on the fourth day, Tony had refrained himself from calling Steve. 

It had been a stressing month. The Avengers had been assembled three times already, Pepper had given him an ultimatum and he had had to catch up with an infinite amount of unsigned paperwork dating from the previous year, he had gotten hooked working out the final details of the latest version of his Stark Tablet, and, as if that weren’t enough, Pepper had dragged him on a business trip to keep alliances in good terms. A trip that was going to last a week. 

Considering that it was Tony Stark the person at issue, all that shouldn’t be a big deal, after all, his life had never been a peaceful and uneventful one, so he should be used to it. And, to a certain point, Tony was. The heart of the matter was that, because of all those events, Tony hadn’t been able to get around to _playing_. Tony might not have completely come to terms with it yet, but he had reached a point where he couldn’t deny any more how it helped him to cope with everything. 

So, on the third day, when Tony was talking to Steve over the phone, he had had a terrible urge to be Little. Not such a good idea when he was miles away from home and his da-Steve. And listening to Steve’s voice had just made it too difficult to fight back that urge. Hence the reason why Tony hadn’t call him for the last three days. Though he hadn’t realized he’d been grumpier because of that until Pepper pointed it out. 

“Hey,” Tony heard Steve’s voice, “what have you been up to?” he asked. Startled, Tony looked around the bathroom looking for him, and he felt stupid when he found out the voice came from his cell phone. Where else? And not just his voice, Steve’s face could be seen through the screen. 

“You called me?” Tony questioned. 

“No, you did,” Steve informed him. Tony’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. He did not remember doing that.

“Are you sure?” Tony insisted. He must have been more lost in thought than he had imagined. 

“Yes,” Steve assured, his expression showing concern, “are you OK?”

“Yeah… yeah,” Tony said, taking a hand to his face and rubbing his temples for a few seconds. “Just tired, I guess.”

“It looks kind of foggy, where are you? Are you in the bathroom? Are you taking a bath?” Steve asked. Tony could feel his face burning in shame all of a sudden. He had called Steve while he was sitting naked in a bathtub, and even if Steve had seen him naked and bath him more times than Tony could remember, this felt just weird. Thankfully, Steve didn’t seem to mind at all. 

“Ehm… yes,” Tony agreed. 

“So, how was your day?” Steve questioned after a few minutes when Tony failed to do nothing but stared at screen. 

“OK, I guess.”

“How was the meeting?” Steve keep inquiring. 

“Boring.”

“Did you have any problems?”

“No really.”

“What did you have for lunch?”

“A salad.”

“Really? Pepper’s suggestion?” Steve sounded surprised. 

“Yes.” 

“Don’t you feel like talking?” Steve asked. Tony shook his head as an answer, feeling all his energy draining from his body. Everything that had happened over the last month finally catching up with him. “Don’t worry, I can do all the talking if you want me to,” Steve suggested. 

So, Steve brought him up to day about Clint. Steve told him about how he kept looking after Clint. How both Phil and Fury had taken advantage of the fact that Clint hadn’t been cleared yet to go back into the battlefield to make him catch up with all the reports he had unfinished. How Phil had tried to made it up to him by finally letting him do some training. And how Steve had been helping him get back in shape, going running and sparring with him.

After several minutes of Steve’s chatting, Tony could feel how he began to doze off. Steve’s voice tended to have that effect on him lately. Whenever Tony found himself having problems to fall asleep, and no rocking, rubbing, warm baths or bottles seemed to work; Steve would sit down on a rocking chair, settle him on his lap, make him press his ear against his chest and relate stories – keeping them G Rated, of course – about his days with the Howling Commandos. The sound of Steve’s voice together with the sound of his heartbeats would send him into a such a peaceful state Tony hadn’t experienced before. 

That would be very nice just now, having Steve help him out of the bathtub, dry him out with the tenderness only Steve was capable of, put him to bed and help him to fall asleep. Because Tony knew he was going to have a hard time doing that again, just like the day before, and Pepper would be very angry if she had to dragged him out of bed once more like she had had to the previous day. But Steve was miles away, and Tony would have to put himself to bed, which seemed like something impossible to do now that he could feel exhaustion in every single inch of his body. Just the thought of doing that made him feel more tired. 

If Tony had agreed when Steve offered to go with them the moment he found out about their business trip, Tony wouldn’t be facing this quandary. Because of course Steve, being Steve, had suggested that, with no doubt whatsoever of what the reasoning behind that proposition had been. Steve had wanted to go with him not as a partner in company, but as his daddy. Surely he had seen a hint of the havocs of not being able to _play_ for some time, and had been afraid Tony slipped into his headspace while being way out of reach. 

But Tony couldn’t allow Steve to come along. If that habit of Steve of going all _daddy_ on him when he wasn’t in his headspace got on his nerves, Tony couldn’t even begin to imagine how stressing and mortifying it would be to have him there with him when Tony was supposed to be all grown-up. It hadn’t been like Tony had been afraid of Steve babying him in public, he was completely sure Steve would never do such a thing, it had been something more like showing Steve he didn’t need to be looking after him all the time. Tony didn’t want all this to eventually become a burden on him. 

Because, no matter how much Steve kept saying he didn’t mind being his daddy, Tony couldn’t shake the feeling he’ll end up getting fed up and he would walk away sooner or later. And what would Tony do when that happened? What if Tony let Steve put him to sleep all nights? What if Tony let Steve comfort him after every time he had nightmares? What if Tony let Steve cuddle him and cheer him up all the times he felt a bit down? What if Tony always let Steve go with him on his business trips? What if Tony let Steve be there all the time? How would Tony fall asleep, deal with bad dreams, get rid of negative feelings, and manage no to let loneliness affect him when Steve wasn’t there anymore? 

What if Tony let himself believe Steve was there to stay? How would he deal with the disappointment after finding out that wasn’t true? 

Tony would find himself just like he was now, all alone in a room, in a bathtub whose water was getting colder by the minute, slowly slipping into his little headspace in spite of himself, craving for the kind of care and affection that only Steve could provide. It was true that the entire team was willing to look after him, and Tony truly appreciated the effort they made to take the trouble of doing that, but it was also true that only Daddy could cause that strangely nice warm feeling inside that Tony had come to like so much. A feeling Tony wouldn’t be able to have when his daddy was gone. 

“Hey, Tony… Tony, Tony, hey, Tony, baby, baby, what’s wrong?” Tony could hear his daddy calling him, his voice sounding worried. “Baby, why are you crying?” he asked, and Tony was about to tell him he wasn’t crying when a sob escaped from his throat, making him realize he actually was. 

“Da-daddy,” Tony managed to say after several seconds of trying to compose himself, unsuccessfully. 

"Oh sweetheart, I'm here, I'm right here," Daddy cooed.

But that only made Tony whimper harder. Because his daddy wasn't really there, and he wanted him there so badly, which only made him feel worse. He wasn’t supposed to be miss his daddy. He was supposed to be an adult. He couldn't be little right now. He didn’t want to. He needed to show his daddy he was capable of taking care of himself. He needed to wait until he arrived home to let himself be little. Just one more day and he would be back in the Tower, in his daddy's arms, and he would be able to forget about everything at least for some time and let his daddy take care of everything. At least until Daddy decided he had had enough and left. 

"Am OK," Tony lied, rubbing his left forearm against his eyes trying to get rid of the tears which didn't seem to stop. A shame his arms had been submerged and the cold water didn't match his warm crying face. 

"Baby, baby, listen to me," Daddy asked, "you're getting cold, you need to get out of the bathtub,” he ordered. Surely, he had seen how Tony had started to shiver. "Tony? Did you hear me?" he questioned, Tony just nodded, having a hard time trying to control the whimpers and the shaking. "Get out of the bathtub."

"I-I... Da-Dad-ddy... c-can't-t," Tony stuttered with a tiny voice. 

"Yes, you can, baby," Daddy encouraged, "you're my sweet little champ, I know you can do it, c'mon, I'll watch you from here, I'm taking care of you from here sweetpea, there you go, that's it, keep it going, now the other leg, there you go, be careful, don't do it fast, you can slip, that's it! You did it! You see?! I told you you could do it!" Daddy cheered once Tony made it out of the bathtub, standing awkwardly behind it so he could still see his daddy's image in the cell phone. 

Tony quivered harder, "cold," he informed. Daddy's expression crumbled in uneasiness. 

"I can see a bathrobe behind you, put it on, baby," Daddy instructed. 

Tony turned around and walked slowly to where the robe was hanging from the towel rail, and put it on with clumsy movements. The memory of his daddy wrapping a towel around his shoulders as soon as he was out of the bathtub to prevent him from getting cold was very fresh in Tony’s mind. 

“That’s it, babykins, now tie it, I don’t want you to get a cold. Good, that’s good, you’re doing it wonderfully. Now come back here and pick your phone,” Daddy ordered, his voice still as tender as it could be. 

Tony thought about leaving his cell phone there on the tray, maybe if he stopped listening to his daddy’s voice he would be able to come out of his little headspace, but he ruled out the idea almost immediately. His heart twitched by the thought of making his daddy more worried than he already was by ending the video call. Besides, Tony couldn’t bear the idea of not listening to his voice, not right now. 

“OK, this is what you’re going to do now, champ,” Daddy resumed once Tony had the cell phone in his hands, “you’re going to go back to your room, and you’re going to look for your suitcase. Inside of it, you’ll find something I packed for you.”

“Can’t,” Tony said, not crying anymore but some breathy little whimpers could still be heard. 

“Of course you can, remember you’re my little champ, you said you couldn’t get out of the bathtub and look, you did it, didn’t you?” Tony nodded shyly, “now, all you have to do is to go back to your room and look for your suitcase. You can do that for me, champ, can’t you?” Daddy asked, Tony nodded once more, hesitatingly. 

Slowly, and trying to control his breathing, Tony made it back to his room, not caring at all about the trail of water he was leaving behind him. Daddy was always the one who made sure Tony didn’t drip on his way to the bed. After some more encouragement from his daddy, Tony left his cell phone on a nightstand, placed in a way Daddy could still see him while he walked to the closet, and looked for his suitcase. 

Just a suit, a shirt and a tie were hanging from the closet rod. Despite Pepper’s suggestions, Tony had never liked to unpacked everything he carried in his luggage. He thought it was a waste of effort since he wasn’t going to stay at a hotel for more than a day, and if his clothes creased, he would just have them ironed by the hotel staff. 

Perhaps that had been why Tony never saw what his daddy had packed behind his back, well-hidden on a corner of his suitcase under some items of clothing Tony hadn’t had the chance to wear, as he also tended to pack a few more outfits just in case he needed to change or stay more days than planned. A couple of diapers, an old shirt that belonged to Daddy that Tony was very fond of – it was so old Tony swore it had Steve’s scent impregnated, no matter how many times it was washed – and a small penguin plush. 

If Tony had found those items while being in his adult mindset, Steve would have never heard the end of it, mortified by the possibility of somebody else finding them. But being little, Tony couldn’t help admiring his daddy who always seemed to be a step ahead. 

“Very good, you found them,” Daddy praised when Tony walked back towards the nightstand, carrying the items he had packed. “Now I want you to get ready for bed.”

“You,” Tony asked timidly, not really sure of what to do next. 

“Oh baby, there’s nothing I’d like to do more than putting you to bed right now, but I can’t,” Daddy declined the offer, his voice sounding truly sorry. “You have to try to be a big boy right now and do it yourself. Can you do that for me, champ?” he said, reassuringly. Tony hesitated for some seconds before nodding. “That’s my boy. First, dry yourself,” he instructed, “Yes, like that, you’re doing a great job, buddy,” he kept encouraging while Tony did exactly what was told. 

Tony ruffled his hair with the towel several times to eliminate the excess of water and then he proceeded to do the same with his body, trying hard not to remember how his daddy sometimes played with his damp hair, spiking it in different funny ways. Tossing the towel and bathrobe on the floor, he put his daddy’s t-shirt on and a pair of his pajama pants before climbing into bed, the penguin plush pulled up to his chest tightly.

“Very good, sweetheart!” Daddy praised once more time, “just one little thing, you forgot the diaper, baby” he informed, earning a fierce shake of Tony’s head. 

Drying, Tony could do. Dressing himself, that too. Hugging his stuffed animal, well, if he could he would definitely not do that, but he needed to hug something so badly and his cuddle-monster daddy wasn’t available right now. But diapering himself? That was something Tony was not going to do. It didn’t have to do anything with not knowing how to, since Tony diapered himself many times before the team started doing it, but because he was afraid somebody might see him like that. 

What if a maid came inside his room by accident while he was still asleep? Or even worse, Pepper? She did know about the temporary incontinence problem Tony had had a while ago, but Pepper did not know everything else. How on earth would Tony explain the fact he was wearing a diaper when he supposedly didn’t lose control of his bladder anymore? No way!

“Yes baby, you need to wear the diaper,” Daddy insisted as Tony kept shaking his head. 

“Dun wanna,” Tony said as he hid his face behind the penguin, not wanting to see his daddy’s face. Everybody said Tony had a pair of puppy eyes which he could use to make anybody do whatever he wanted, but Daddy’s disappointed expression had the same effect on Tony. 

“But you have to, sweetpea,” Daddy repeated. 

“No!” Tony refused, his cry muffled by the plush, “Pepper,” he said, hoping that explained everything that was going inside his head. Daddy sighed, and Tony knew he didn’t need to explain more. Daddy was very good at understanding him. 

“Pepper won’t find out,” Steve promised, “I’ll wake you up early, before Pepper goes to your room.”

“No.”

“Tony, baby, listen, what if you have an accident during the night?” Daddy asked, and tears started to well up again in Tony’s eyes due to the realization that what Daddy was saying was the most likely scenario, “it’s easier to hide a soaked diaper than a bed,” he reasoned, and Tony couldn’t help whimpering at the thought of Pepper finding out he had wet the bed. “Besides, look, I packed normal diapers, not the ones Clint buys, you can wear your pajamas over it,” he informed. Tony turned his head and confirmed what his daddy just said, he had been so mortified he hadn’t noticed that particular detail. 

After some more reasoning from his daddy, Tony agreed to grab the diaper and put it on. Sobs escaped again from his throat and soon, Tony found himself crying all over again. Diaper changes had become a special moment between he and his daddy and doing it himself felt just wrong. 

By the time Tony was finished and under the covers, his Stark Phone now placed on a pillow next to him so Daddy could see him and he could see Daddy without having to detach his head from the pillow under it, his sobs had become worse. The urge of hugging him caused his chest to tightened uncomfortably, and Tony had to resign himself and hug his plushy instead. 

Not allowing his daddy to come with him seemed such a dumb idea now.

“You did wonderfully, baby boy, I’m so proud of you,” Steve exclaimed, smiling at Tony. 

What happened after was a bit blurry in Tony’s mind. Though he was sure Daddy kept chatting with him while he cried himself to sleep. 

\- - - - 

Tony could swear he experienced the closest thing to a heart attack the next morning. 

He had felt how someone removed the covers, rolled him over and pulled his pants down, which was something he was used to by now. It wasn’t something foreign that Steve or someone else from the team changed his diaper first thing in the morning to avoid a rash to develop unnecessarily. Thus, Tony didn’t do anything anymore to get rid of his drowsiness state when that happened, sometimes he even went back to sleep after the diaper change. 

But today, while his wet diaper was being peeled off, a mild headache caused Tony to completely wake up. Said headache made him wonder the reason for its existence and it took him only a couple of seconds to remember the events from the previous night. His heart stopped for a millisecond – Tony swore it did – as nobody was supposed to be there with him. 

"Wow! Tony! Relax!" Steve exclaimed when he saw Tony snapping his eyes wide open and struggling to get away from him, hands looking desperately for the sheets, trying to cover himself. "It's me, it's daddy," he announced, hands held up in front of his chest to show he was no threat. Though it was obvious Steve was ready to do something if Tony decided to make a sudden exit – as he tended to do in situations like these – even if he was very still. 

"Steve?" Tony asked, blinking several times, as if he was trying to rule out the possibility that Steve’s presence was just a product of his mind. That action didn’t let him see the brief disappointed expression that crossed Steve’s face for being called by his name.

"Yes, baby, it's me," Steve assured, smiling tenderly at him, "I'm here, it's me."

"But, but, how did you– when did you– why are you–," Tony babbled, not being able to finish a sentence due to his shock. How on earth could Steve be there? 

"Shhhh, take it easy baby," Steve asked as he grabbed the sheets and pull them to free them from Tony's grip. “May I?” he asked when Tony didn’t let go of the sheets. “C’mon sweetheart, I don’t want you to get a rash,” he said. Tony winced just by the thought of getting one, he would never get used to them. 

“How?” Tony questioned as Steve lifted his hips easily, his eyes fixed on the door, afraid someone might come inside. 

“Well, you put a private jet to our disposal, didn’t you? I know back then I said you didn’t have to do that, but now I couldn’t be gladder you did,” Steve explained, reaching for the baby wipes and using them to clean Tony up as gently as usual. Tony remembered how Steve had argued over the fact that he had done that, not liking in the slightest that he spent so much money on them. “So, when you fell asleep, I got JARVIS to get ahold of the pilot and he flew me here over the night,” he continued, unfolding a diaper as he lifted Tony’s hips once more to slid it under his butt. 

Steve removed the tube of diaper cream from the diaper bag Tony just realized was next to him on the bed, and rubbed some of it between his thighs and butt cheeks, sprinkling some powder too before strapping the diaper into place. Then, Steve took off his pajama bottoms, and Tony looked down when he felt the diaper he had on now felt much thicker than the one he was wearing before. It was definitely one of those diapers with cute designs Clint liked to buy for him, still white, but decorated with different prints of cartoonish animals.

“Don’t worry, nobody’s coming over,” Steve said when Tony looked up at him questioningly. “I hung the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the doorknob, and I ran into Pepper on my way here,” he continued, standing up and taking the soiled diaper with him into the bathroom to be disposed of.

Despite knowing it was totally irrational, Tony couldn’t help feeling a bit anxious when Steve disappeared from his sight. He leaned forward to grab the penguin that had ended somehow near the edge of the bed and pulled him closer to his chest, while he fought the desire of taking his thumb to his mouth. The sound of water running could be heard for some seconds, and when it stopped, Steve remerged from the bathroom. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Steve apologized in advance as he moved closer to the bed, he knew how much Tony disliked when he interfered in his business, “but I managed to get you out of your meeting today,” he announced, sitting down on the bed, back leaned against the headboard, “I told Pepper you weren’t feeling well and that was the reason I’d come,” he explained before Tony could ask anything, sliding his hands under Tony’s armpits, lifting him a bit and pulling him until he had him settled on his lap. “She didn’t seem to mind much; I guess she was even impressed you lasted this much. She told me about the time you flew back to New York while you’d supposedly gone to the bathroom,” Steve reported, placing a hand around his waist, pulling him closer. “You can be a very naughty boy sometimes, you know,” Steve scolded, poking Tony’s nose playfully, who couldn’t help squirming a little. 

“Why?” Tony asked with a tiny voice. 

“Why what, sweetheart?” Steve echoed, his thumb caressing absent-mindedly Tony’s belly. 

“Why did you come?” Tony elaborated more, enjoying the closeness more that he would ever admit. 

“What? Don’t you want me to be here? Do you want me to leave?” Steve said, his expression turning sad. 

“No!” Tony hurried to admit, a slight shade of pink decorating his cheeks at how desperate he had sound.

“Then?” Steve asked, clearly delighted by Tony’s reaction.

“It was very far, it was very late, and I was going to be back tonight anyway,” Tony explained.

Steve took a deep breath, causing Tony to squirm a little more. That gesture always meant Tony had said something Steve didn’t approved of. 

“Listen.” Steve placed a finger under Tony’s chin, pushing it gently to made him look up at him before continuing, “you have no idea how hard it was for me to see how much you needed me last night and I couldn’t be here for you,” Steve confessed, and there wasn’t the slightest doubt he was being sincere, “I don’t care if you’re a door away, across the street, in a different city, country or continent, if you need me I’m going to do everything I can to come to your aid,” he assured, tightening his embrace. A warm feeling spread across Tony’s chest. 

“You don’t have to,” Tony informed, a bit uncomfortable under Steve’s fond look. 

“I don’t do it because I have to,” Steve corrected, “I do it because I want to.” 

“But why?” Tony insisted, because even if he knew Steve was being honest, he couldn’t understand why he would do such a thing. Who in his right mind would leave everything, take an airplane and fly miles away just to be with someone who wasn’t really in need of any aid?

“Because you’re my sweet little boy and you deserve it,” Steve said, pressing several quick kisses on Tony’s face, causing him a pleasant tingling sensation. 

“Stop,” Tony ordered, without really meaning it. He had to hide his face against Steve’s chest to stopped him from continuing kissing him, ashamed of how much he was enjoying that display of affection. How easily Steve could be so loving would always be beyond his comprehension. 

“I mean it,” Steve told him, sounding so serious Tony had to turn his head to look at him again. “I want to be there whenever you need me. I’m going to be there as long as you want me to. But you have to promise me something,” Steve requested, placing both hands on Tony’s sides and moving him a bit away from him, wanting to have a better look of his face. Tony tightened his grip in his penguin. “You have to promise me you’ll always call me when you need me. No matter how insignificant you think the reason is. Can you promise me that, baby boy?” Steve questioned, taking Tony’s face in his hands, refraining him from looking away. 

“Yes,” Tony agreed after some seconds, speaking so quietly that Steve wouldn’t have been able to hear him if it hadn’t been for the fact that the serum had improved his hearing greatly. 

“Good,” Steve approved before leaning over and pressing a kiss on his forehead. “So, I was thinking, what if we relax a bit here before going back home?” he suggested, getting a nod as an answer. Tony could feel how he slipped back further into his headspace now that the shock from before was forgotten, which meant he wasn’t in the mood of going outside just yet. “What would you like to do?” Steve asked, but Tony couldn’t really think of anything he would like to do. Having Steve there was all he needed in that moment. “I could definitely do this all morning if that’s what you want to,” Steve said happily when Tony threw his arms around his neck, hugging him firmly. 

All this was temporary, Tony knew that. Experience had taught him good things didn’t last in his life no matter how much he tried to keep them. It had taught him not to have high expectations. But all these things Steve did for him made Tony believed that maybe, just maybe, Steve was there to stay. For good. 

Tony could live with that for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw any mistakes? Please, let me know :D
> 
> I remember reading a summary of a story where it said it was just phone sex, and I got this idea, how would that be in a NSAP story? Lol, I didn't even get around to reading that fanfic because I started writing this right away XD. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this.
> 
> And thank you so much for your encouraging comments! They surely cheered me up :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you see any mistakes, please let me know :)

"You know, this is sexism," Natasha complained, walking beside him. 

"What?" Tony asked, turning his head to see her, taken aback by her comment. 

"You asking me to go shopping with you just because I'm a woman," Natasha elaborated, squinting her eyes at him. 

"What?! That's not true!" Tony assured, except it totally was. 

Tony Stark could do many things, things that no one else could do, but shopping for gifts wasn't one of them. He tended to buy things that were extremely expensive and, apparently, that seemed to bother the people around him – at least the ones that weren't with him because of his money. There had been a lot of arguments between Pepper and him because of that reason. When Pepper bought herself something luxurious with his money, it was OK – usually because Tony had screwed something up and that was a way to make it up to her – but when Tony was the one who was supposed to choose and buy the present, he was expected to give something more personal, more detailed. 

He was afraid Steve was very like Pepper in that sense. Steve tended to bet a bit offended when Tony spent too much money on him, no matter how much Tony emphasized money wasn’t a big deal for him. 

So, if Tony wanted to get a gift Steve really liked and didn’t want to return, he was definitely going to need help, and of all the people under his roof, the only one who seemed to be able to give a descent opinion about what to buy was Natasha. Asking Pepper was absolutely off the table, since she didn’t know all the details about what had been going on in his life lately. Clint and Thor? Well, actually, Tony didn't even want to imagine what he would have ended up buying if he had asked them. And Phil simply hadn’t been around when Tony decided to go shopping. 

"You don't fool me," Natasha informed, glaring at him. The kind of glare that told him she wasn't going to put up with any lies. 

"OK, OK, I admit it,” Tony agreed, “but it wasn't because you are a woman, OK? It was because I think you're the one who won't make me go back to the Tower with a fart cushion or a lifetime supply of Pop-Tarts,” he explained.

“I’ll pretend I believe you,” Natasha conceded, still looking suspiciously at him. “What do you want to buy anyway?” she asked, “I mean, who’s going to be the gift for?” 

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Tony pretended he hadn’t heard the question. Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to bring Natasha along after all. It had taken him a lot of time to make up his mind whether he should buy Steve a present or not, and he still was a bit hesitant about it. Therefore, having someone might help him with the selection of the gift, but it also made the whole situation more embarrassing.

In a week, it would be the third Sunday of June, the day when Father’s Day was celebrated. 

It seemed like it had been forever since the last time Tony considered that particular Sunday different from all the other Sundays of the year. He had been very young when he found out that celebrating that day would be one of the many things that were going to be different for him due to the fact of having been born a Stark. 

Therefore, Tony usually ignored all those kind of celebrations, but this year, when the advertising of Father’s Day had started, he couldn’t help wondering if he should give something to Steve. 

Tony was perfectly aware of the fact that role-playing as daddy and baby, like they’ve been doing, didn’t make Steve his father, so giving him a present was probably not a good idea. But as the days went by, the little voice inside his head that told him he should get Steve something got louder and louder, to the point he had to really take that idea into consideration. 

“If you don’t tell me who’s the gift for, how do you expect me to help you buy something?” Natasha argued, voice sounding a bit annoyed as she had surely noticed his reluctance to answer. 

“’tev,” Tony mumbled, looking away. 

“Who?” Natasha insisted, Tony could feel her eyes on him. 

“’tev,” Tony repeated, sounding even less comprehensible.

“Antoshka,” Natasha said with a warningly, grasping his upper arm and stopping them both. “If you don’t stop this nonsense, I’m leaving,” she warned.

“Steve! I want to buy a present for Steve, OK?!” Tony answered a bit too loud. 

“Steve?” Natasha echoed, looking confused, “Why?” 

“Father’s day,” Tony muttered once more, his face feeling uncomfortably hot. 

“Father’s day? I actually thought it was because of his birthday,” Natasha commented, making Tony feel incredibly stupid. Steve’s birthday! Of course! That would have been a much less embarrassing reason. Steve’s birthday was going to be like in three weeks. Why hadn’t he thought of that? 

“If you’re gonna mock me, then you can go,” Tony snapped, though he didn’t sound as intimidating as he would have liked to. 

“ _Ne volnovat'sya_ , I’m not Clint,” Natasha said as she let his arm go and turned around to keep walking down the street. Tony followed her. “I won’t deny I think you two are way too sickly-sweet sometimes,” she declared, Tony’s face felt hotter. It wasn’t unknown for him how he behaved around Steve when he was in his little headspace, so he couldn’t refute that claim. “So, what do you have in mind?” she asked, Tony shrugged. “Really? You don’t have any idea?”

“If I’d had an idea, I wouldn’t have asked you for help, would I?” Tony replied, voice irritated. Out of the corner of his eye, Tony could see Natasha opening her mouth to answer back, but he paused. “I mean, I thought about giving him something unique, a one-of-a-kind thing, like a famous painting or something like that, but Steve doesn’t really like getting expensive stuff,” he said, fidgety hands in his pockets. 

“Well, it doesn’t have to be expensive to be unique,” Natasha pointed out, “we’ll figure something out, you’ll see,” she promised, sounding hopeful. 

\- - - -

Tony paced in front of the elevator, unable to make his mind whether to go upstairs or not, the small wrapped box he was carrying in his hands getting heavier by the minute. 

The time had flown over the last week, and before Tony realized it, Sunday had arrived. The third Sunday of June. He had woken up very early, earlier than a person who had gone to bed well into the night would have, and he had been trying to make himself go and look for Steve since then. 

What if Steve got offended? What if Steve didn't approve of the fact that Tony had taken the liberty of buying him a gift on Father's Day? What if, by having done so, Tony was taking all this age play thing to another level, a level higher than just calling Steve daddy? What if the gift made Steve realize just how weird all this was and finally stepped away?

No matter how hard he tried, Tony couldn't shake those thoughts off. Because, even if Steve had told him thousands of times he was more than fine with being his daddy, Tony still had trouble believing him, and he was afraid he never would. Sometimes, his brain was a burden, Tony would like to shut it down from time to time, so he could stop analyzing everything and just go with the flow.

"Captain Rogers is about to finish his training, Sir," JARVIS informed him, startling him out of his stupor. 

"So what?" Tony snapped for no valid reason, as he was well aware of why JARVIS had announced that. 

If Tony decided to give him the present, it would have to be when Steve was alone. Tony didn’t want an audience if, by any chance, everything went wrong. So, Tony had to intercept Steve before he took a shower and headed to the communal floor with the intention of hanging out with whoever he ran into, not really enjoying spending a lot of time by himself. 

Taking a deep breath, and alternating the hand with which he was holding the gift – the nervousness was making his hands sweat quite a lot, and he didn’t want to ruin the wrapping paper – he stopped his pacing and stood in front of the door of the elevator, still wondering if it was a good idea to ride it upstairs. 

"Captain Rogers just left the gym,” JARVIS announced, giving Tony the push he needed to reach the decision of stepping into the elevator. “Good choice, Sir,” the A.I. told him as the doors closed and the elevator began to move. 

“Oh, shut up,” Tony ordered, and if JARVIS could, Tony was sure he would roll his eyes at him. 

During the ride, Tony’s stomach wrenched while his mind tried to figure out the best way to approach Steve. Should he leave the gift on the floor outside the elevator, so Steve saw it, and then go away? Should he go to Steve’s room and leave it on a table or somewhere alike? Should he hand it over to Steve? Or, should he just back out? Tony could still do it, he still had time to do that, didn’t he?

“Hey Tony.” A voiced said. 

OK, maybe he didn’t. 

“Are you coming to work out?” Steve asked as he threw a small towel over his shoulder, voice surprised. Tony couldn’t help jumping, he had been too lost in thought that he hadn’t realized when the elevator reached the floor where the gym was. The startle almost made him forget about the gift, so Tony was afraid Steve caught a glimpse of it before he put his hands behind his back, hiding it.

“Erm… Yes, I am… I mean, no…I was… the way… now,” Tony babbled, a feeling of dread sinking into his stomach. 

Having Steve there in front of him, his muscles all swelled and looking larger as they usually did after he finished working out, radiating strength, confidence, safety, made Tony see him as the way everybody else undoubtedly saw him: a superhero. Steve wasn’t a daddy, he was superhero, and not just any superhero, Steve was Captain America. How on earth would such a person want to be considered a daddy? Especially by someone like Tony? All of this had been a huge mistake. 

“What? I didn’t get what you said,” Steve declared, clucking and walking inside the elevator. To Tony’s dismay, the doors closed almost immediately and the elevator started to move. If he had thought about stepping outside and let Steve ride it alone, he had another thing coming. 

“Late,” Tony managed to say, moving backwards until his arms hit the wall. 

“Late for what?” Steve asked, staring at him curiously.

“The thing… with Pepper,” Tony made up. 

Steve raised an eyebrow, “what thing with Pepper?”

“A meeting,” Tony lied, fidgeting under Steve’s stare. 

“A meeting?” Steve echoed, his eyebrows furrowing together as he obviously tried to remember something about a meeting. Steve was even more informed than him about his own schedule, Pepper made sure of that so she could ask him for help whenever Tony refused to attend. “You don’t have any meetings today,” he assured. 

“It’s was a last minute call.”

“You’re a terrible liar, did you know that? And you know I don’t like to be lied to,” Steve remarket as he took a step closer to Tony and smacked his bottom, or at least that had been his intention, because his hand reached the gift box before his butt. “What have you got there?” he asked, peeking around to see what Tony was holding, but he moved and positioned himself in a way the present kept hidden behind him.

“Nothing!” Tony lied, squirming more. 

“It doesn’t look like nothing to me,” Steve pointed out, “actually, it looks like a present.”

“Well, it’s not,” Tony said, his voice failing to sound as menacing as he wanted, sounding mortified instead. Why was the elevator moving so slowly? The tower was supposed to be equipped with the fastest technology! He wanted the doors to open so he could get away from Steve and get rid of the stupid gift once and for all! 

“Is that a gift for me?” Steve questioned with a tone of voice Tony couldn’t really decipher. 

“No, it’s not.”

“Then why does it have my name on it? Do you know any other Steve?” Steve smiled mockingly. Damn serum and its stupid properties that made Steve’s sight perfect! And damn himself for having had the great idea of labeling it in the first place! 

“As a matter of fact, I do!” Tony assured, earning a glare from Steve.

“Stop with the lying,” Steve ordered, using that commanding tone of voice that made Tony feel very little. “Look, you obviously don’t have any meetings, and you came upstairs to look for me, otherwise you wouldn’t have left your workshop. So, why don’t we get this over with?” he suggested, his face showing that expression he always wore when his patience was running out and he wanted Tony to speak out. “Why don’t you tell me why you came to see me?” he insisted. 

Raising his hand and handing Steve the present, that was a very simple thing to do, but somehow Tony couldn’t bring himself to do it. What would be the worst that could happen? That Steve didn’t like it? That it made him finally realize this thing between them was something he actually didn’t want and decided to put a stop to it before it got worse? Before Tony got more attached to him? Yes, even if Tony would never admit, it would hurt, but he would get over it as he had gotten over several more things. 

If Steve decided not to allow this to go further, the sooner Tony found out, the better. 

Still squirming slightly, Tony looked up at Steve, at the doors and walls of the elevator, until he fixed his eyes on his own feet, looking at them like if they were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. With slow movements, Tony pulled out his hands from behind and stretched his right arm out hesitatingly, holding his breath until he felt Steve taking the gift box away from him. 

“Happy Father’s Day,” Tony managed to murmur, voice low and much too quiet for anyone without a super hearing to be able to hear, feeling the heat rising in his face.

His legs turned to jelly when he heard Steve working on unwrapping the gift, and Tony couldn’t help to wonder if time had somehow changed its pace since it seemed that an eternity passed before the sound of a box being opened could be heard. Though, come to think of it, Steve was so careful that he surely unwrapped the present without ripping the paper at all. Tony might have as well verified his theory, but he refused to look at anything but his feet, too embarrassed to be able to move. 

A water bottle, that had been the thing Tony had bought Steve. Of all the amazing things he could have afforded, he had decided to buy a water bottle. Natasha had insisted on buying something simple, something meaningful, and, apparently, a complete set for digital drawing and painting – that included the best pen display graphic tablet with a raster graphics editor and several tutorials to learn how to use it – wasn’t. A water bottle was. Natasha hadn’t even let him buy a mug like Tony had wanted, arguing Steve didn’t drink as much coffee as Tony did. Tony hadn’t been able to refute that; it was as usual to see Steve with a water bottle as it was seeing Tony with a mug.

Oh, but it hadn’t been a simple bottle, but one with the legend “this guy is the best DADDY in the history of ever” printed on it. The mere fact of remembering that made his face feel hotter, and even if Tony wanted to look up at Steve and see his face while he read the inscription, he couldn’t bring himself to do it, too afraid to see a displeased expression.

"You can change it if you want to, I still have the ticket," Tony suggested after some seconds when the silence started to be a bit uncomfortable. 

"Tony, baby, this is the best gift I've ever been given," Steve claimed with such sincerity, there wasn’t the slightest doubt he meant it. Tony squirmed nervously, still not looking at him, so he was taken by surprised when Steve scooped him up all of a sudden, hugging him tightly. “I wouldn’t change it for the world,” he assured, and that allowed Tony to melt into the hug, as that statement took a huge load off his mind. “I love it, thank you,” Steve said in his ear. Tony tightened his embrace. "Let's get you change," he announced after some minutes, when the doors of the elevator finally opened. 

"What?" Tony asked confused, pushing slightly Steve’s chest to be able to see his face. 

"I bet you'll be more comfortable with a diaper and a onesie," Steve suggested as he stepped outside the elevator and walked into his living room. 

"I didn't ask you to _play_ ," Tony argued. Since that time he had slipped into his little headspace during the business trip, Tony had been refusing to _play_ every Saturday like they had stipulated, and they had done it just until Tony had asked for it. 

"I know, but you said it yourself. Today's is Father's Day, and I can't really celebrate it without my baby boy, can I?" Steve asked, pressing a kick kiss on his cheek. 

For a millisecond, Tony thought about arguing, but there was no point on doing so. After having spent almost two weeks being eaten away by the doubt of whether buying a gift was a good idea or not, some quality time with Steve was just what he needed. 

By the time Steve walked into the nursery, Tony was already feeling little, and even if he wasn't so delighted by the fact that Steve's mere presence seemed to be enough to make him slip into his little headspace, Tony was willing to let it pass today. If daddy wanted to spend the rest of the day chilling out with him, it was OK. After all, Steve had shown him once more he did want to be his daddy, and Tony couldn't really deny him anything after that. 

\- - - -

"That's not fair. Why didn't you buy one that said 'I love my uncle?" Clint asked with a pouty face. Tony rolled his eyes, and if it hadn't been for the fact that his mouth was busy drinking some juice from a bottle, he would have told Clint he was more like a cousin or a brother than an uncle. 

"Buy it yourself if you want to," Steve said from the kitchen, the tone of his voice indicating he was smiling. Clint's pout got bigger. 

"I think your garments are charming, don't you think?" Thor proclaimed, smiling at him. Tony felt his face turning red, and he was glad Thor didn't take the bottle away from his mouth, since Tony wouldn't have known what to say to that.

Steve had bought him a onesie with a 'I ♥ daddy' pattern on the front of it, and of course that was the onesie Steve had dressed him with. Tony had stared at him questionably, not sure of how he felt about wearing it – though deep down he knew he had loved it – but Steve had just shrugged and said it had been a gift he had bought for himself for being an awesome daddy. Tony hadn’t been able to refute that.

“I don't know why you're making such a fuss,” Natasha said from the kitchen too, “I’m going to buy you one like Tony's so you can wear it.”

"What? I’m not wearing that! I'm not a baby! Besides, Steve’s Tony's daddy, not mine.” Clint argued, turning around on the sofa to glared at Natasha. Tony couldn’t have agreed more, Steve was his daddy and nobody else’s. “I don't have a daddy, and I _don’t_ need one,” Clint hurried to say before Natasha could comment about that.

“Well, I’m pretty sure Phil wouldn’t mind being your daddy,” Natasha mocked while she washed some tomatoes, “I’ll ask him if you want,” she offered.

Clint stuck his tongue out at her. “Ha-ha, you’re not funny.”

“Is it going to take a long time? I’m afraid I’m extremely hungry,” Thor asked, tipping up the bottle so Tony didn’t have to struggle to get the last drops of the juice out of it. Soon, Tony found himself sucking just air.

“An hour and a half at least, maybe more,” Steve informed as he cleaned his hands with the apron he was wearing and walked out of the kitchen towards them, “I think he finished the juice,” he informed Thor, who hadn’t realized the bottle was empty now.

“Oh, I’m sorry, my little fellow,” Thor apologized as he removed the bottle and put it aside. Tony whined quietly as he squirmed slightly, an uncomfortable pain settling in his abdomen. “What’s wrong? Would you like some more juice?” he questioned, but Tony shook his head.

“You have to burp him,” Steve said.

“Burp him?” Thor echoed, furrowing his brows in a sign of confusion.

“Here, let me do it,” Steve offered, leaning over and picking Tony up from Thor’s lap. 

Carefully, Steve held Tony against his chest, cupping the back of his head and guiding it down until his chin was resting on his shoulder, and then he proceeded to pat his back gently until Tony let a small burp out. Tony didn’t like when Steve did that, but he had to admit it made him feel better.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Steve soothed, rubbing his back for several seconds more. Tony clutch the back of Steve’s t-shirt and hid his face burning face in the crook of Steve’s neck, “now, stay with your uncle Thor while Natasha and I start making the pizza, OK?” Steve asked, getting a quiet ‘no’ for an answer, which Steve apparently decided to ignore, because he tried to leave him on Thor’s lap once more anyway. “C’mon baby, let go,” he asked when Tony clutched Steve’s t-shirt even harder and wrapped his waist tightly with his legs.

If Steve had managed to get away from him before, Tony was going to make sure he didn’t again. Thor was nice and Tony liked him, but he was feeling particularly little right now, and he just wanted to be with his daddy.

When Steve decided they were going to _play_ , Tony hadn’t refused because he had thought it was going to be just the both of them. But then Steve had gone and announced they were going to have lunch with everyone else, and Tony had not liked that idea, not being in the mood of hanging out with anybody else. He had whined loudly as Steve carried him to the elevator and rode it to the communal floor, and he had gotten quite fussy (though he had gotten distracted with the bottle soon after) when Steve put him down on Thor’s lap, arguing today’s was a special day and homemade pizza – which everybody loved – was in order. So much for wanting to celebrate this day with his ‘baby boy’.

“C’mon sweetums, Daddy needs to finish the pizza so we can eat. Stay with uncle Thor just for a little while more and I promise we can cuddle as much as you want when I’m done,” Steve promised, pushing Tony gently away from him, but Tony shook his head effusively and refused to let go. “Aren’t you hungry too? Don’t you want to eat pizza?” Steve insisted, and Tony whined miserably when he kept pushing him.

“No!” Tony whimpered. 

Steve took a deep breath as he straightened up. “OK, but you’re sitting in your highchair, I really need my hands free to mix the ingredients for the dough,” he warned, and before Tony could do anything about it, Steve had walked into the kitchen, put him in the highchair and fastened the harness over his chest, getting rid of his grip by tickling him under his armpits. 

“No,” Tony said, his hands trying to grab Steve’s arms while he snapped the tray into place.

“Sorry, baby, but I’m never going to finish if I continue at this pace,” Steve apologized, pressing a quick kiss against his forehead. “I tell you what, you can help daddy with the pizza” he said, making Tony look up at him, truly interested in that proposal. Daddy had never let him help him. 

“Hey! If he’s helping, I wanna help too,” Clint complained, standing from the sofa and heading towards the kitchen island.

“No way, you’re going to burn the kitchen down,” Natasha affirmed, her raised eyebrow indicating she wasn’t kidding.

“I won’t, I’m a terrific cook,” Clint argued, though he stopped dead when Natasha raised her eyebrow even more.

“You mean terrible. The other day you scorched a pan when you were trying to make pancakes,” Natasha recalled, looking annoyed.

“That was because the fire was too hot!” Clint explained, making Steve chuckle and Natasha frown. 

“Let him help if he wants to, he can help me with the dough, he won’t burn anything,” Steve consented, ruffling Clint’s hair, “for that matter, Thor can help too. The merrier the better.”

“I’m always willing to help,” Thor said with a genuine smile upon his face, already walking towards them.

“Yay! That means the pizza’s gonna be ready soon!” Clint exclaimed.

“Well, maybe, but we do need to let the dough rise up for an hour at least,” Steve said, struggling a little to get free from Tony’s grip. Tony moped when Steve managed to get away from him.

First, Steve had made him _play_ when he hadn’t asked for it. Second, Steve had decided to have lunch with everybody else when the only thing Tony wanted to do was to cuddle with his daddy on the couch and have a quiet afternoon, and if that hadn’t been enough, Steve had agreed to make his famous homemade pizza, which had meant Tony had to stay away from him for more time. And now, Steve had let everybody else help when just minutes before he had let Tony believed he was kind of special for offering him the same thing. Tony didn’t like it, but he could tell he was getting crankier by the minute. 

“Daddy!” Tony called, up in arms.

“Tony, baby, as soon as the dough is made, I’m picking you up, OK?” Steve said when Tony started to tug at the straps.

“No! Now!” Tony demanded.

“Steven is occupied right now, little one, but I can hold you again if you don’t want to be there,” Thor offered, and Tony held his arms up after thinking about it for a moment. It was more probable he could reach Steve being in Thor’s arm than in the highchair.

And not sooner said that done, Tony had gotten so fussy and squirmy that Steve had had no choice but sitting Tony on his lap while he indicated Clint what ingredients to put in the bowl. 

“Now we have to mix it until we have a dough,” Steve informed once Clint had finished, reaching for the bowl and pulling it closer right in front of him and Tony. “Would you like to do it, baby?” he asked, helping him straighten up.

“Hey! You’d told me I could do that,” Clint complained, the pout back in his face.

“I know I did, but you already put all the ingredients together and I told Tony he could help too, so now it’s his turn,” Steve excused, kissing the top of Tony’s head while he took his hands in his and guided them towards the bowl, plunging them into it. The soon-to-be-dough was pleasantly cool, and Tony liked the sensation on his fingers when he squished it. It felt funny. “Do you like it, sweety?” Steve asked, sensing Tony’s amusement.

“I want to do that,” Clint whined, his right hand already stretching out to plunge it into the bowl too.

“No!” Tony yelled, trying to get Clint’s hand out of the way.

“Clint, we’re going to make more, you can mix the next one,” Steve promised.

“No, I wanna mix this one,” Clint insisted.

“No!” Tony maintained, and without giving it much thought, he grabbed some of the mixture and threw it at Clint. He wasn't in the mood of sharing anything, and if he was already sharing his daddy, there was no way he was sharing the task his daddy had given him. 

Clint stayed paralyzed for some seconds, his brain attempting to process what had just happened. And what happened next should have been more than predictable, because Clint wasn’t the kind of person who sat back and did nothing when being attacked like he just had. Before anyone could react, Clint had grabbed some mixture too, and thrown it at Tony, but Tony’s reflexes had made him dodge it, and Steve’s face ended up being the one that received the impact. 

“Clint!” Natasha scolded, though Tony doubted it was necessary. Clint’s face drained of all color as the realization of what he had just done hit him, and gulped loudly when Steve raised his hand and cleaned his face slowly, his eyes fixed on Clint all the time. 

“You’re paying for that,” Steve warned, and Tony could see even Thor flinched slightly. It was common knowledge Steve didn’t approve of such behavior.

Hence, when Steve returned the attack instead of scolding Clint, everybody’s jaws dropped open. Everything went downhill from there. 

Soon, all of them were throwing at each other whatever they could put their hands on. Thor looked like a ghost after Clint emptied most of the bag of flour over him, Natasha’s hair looked like a weird type of pizza after it caught plenty of the things that were going to be used as toppings, Clint looked like he was bleeding due to all the tomatoes Tony had squashed on him, and Steve couldn’t find any inch of his body that wasn’t stained, since Tony didn’t hold back when he threw things, but he also used Steve as a shield when the others fought back. 

“That was diverting,” Thor exclaimed once everybody got tired and called a truce. 

“Yeah! We should do it more often!” Clint proposed.

“No!” Steve hurried to say. He might have lost his composure minutes ago, but he was still Steve, and making a mess willingly wasn’t something he liked to do.

“I guess we’re not eating pizza anymore,” Clint said as he removed a slice of peperoni from his hair. 

“Well, you shouldn’t have started a food fight if you wanted to eat a homemade pizza,” Natasha scolded, throwing another slice of pepperoni at him. 

“I didn’t start it, it was Tony!”, Clint alleged, pointing at Tony accusingly. Tony didn’t even bother to replied anything, his thumb too comfortably settled in his mouth to take it out, though he squirmed when Steve kept trying to wipe his face. 

“You shouldn’t have continued it, you know better, he’s a baby,” Steve pointed out, and Tony smiled around his thumb as he looked mockingly at Clint.

“You squished a tomato against my head!” Clint accused.

“Because you sprinkled flour all over me,” Steve scolded, glaring at him. Tony knew he wasn’t mad by the upturning of the corner of his mouth.

“Technicalities,” Clint said. Steve chuckled.

“OK, we can still eat pizza, but we’ll have to buy it,” Steve suggested.

“Yay!” Clint shouted. 

“And we have to clean the kitchen first,” Steve informed. 

“What? No way! It’s gonna take us hours!” Clint complained, “I’m not cleaning anything!” he affirmed, aiming at standing up, but he just managed to fall on his butt as he slipped with a puddle of something unrecognizable. Tony couldn’t help giggling. 

“You, baby boy, shouldn’t laugh, you’re helping too,” Steve said, kissing him on the cheek. Tony whined, he didn’t like cleaning at all. “Oh yes, after all, you were the one who started all this,” Steve accused, pressing more kisses in his cheeks and descending to his neck, making him all ticklish.  
Tony would have liked to spend the day just with his daddy, but he couldn’t deny that hanging out with the rest of his family had turned out to be fun too. Because this was certainly what having a family must feel, wasn’t it? 

And perhaps, one day, if moments like these kept happening, Tony would get rid of all his insecurities and make his brain understand once and for all that this was real. But until he reached that point, he would surely enjoy having the best daddy in the history of ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! It's done. I can't believe I finished it! I had a hard time getting around to writing this last chapter, so I'm happy I finally did it :p.
> 
> I love Steve&Tony (and I guess you've figured that by now) and I always intended to focused on those two since the begining (even if I didn't know exactly how this was going to develop) but I also lose Everyone&Tony as a family, and that was another thing I was aiming to in this story. I hope I achieved it. 
> 
> Thank you for all your kudos and comments, they really motivated me to keep writing. And thank you so much to those people who took some of their time to explain me and point out grammar and spelling mistakes. 
> 
> I honestly don't know if I'll write another series, there are a couple of stories I'm currently working on, and I'd really like to focus on them. but if I ever do, well, you'll see it posted here :)


End file.
